time stamp

on your forehead, try to wrap a turban around - slips off easily as to when and where, a carpet might just become magical. fly high, didn't the ride almost take off till the flip flap weakens to a dribble; suck in the air play it cool - the crowd is not easily fooled. and they poke around on a time stamp beginning to fade. rub on it till the genie comes out to grant inquiries: how can i help? the pressure cooks, is like a burning candle waxing away dribbles; slips a turban comes undone but hey - let's all be cool eh? and cool is the last thing around when a sinister cackle cries from the crypt. don't forget me, a skeleton grasp strongly on to the living, don't leave me buried deep inside, tries, attempts to crawl out to breathe in air. stop this; the conscious admonishes. don't; the unconscious fades, blinks with revelation. i see ya! time erased, time retrieved, a lost burial ground of unspoken angst, why not me? why not indeed. but a plastic malleable grinning face scoffs at this idea. why not me? the face indicated to what is apparent; thus two became one, one with bones screaming to be let out. the other dolly me--- playing with fire.