Touch

Touch
Originally uploaded by Anantya.

Smithereeeeeeened by a brilliant invasion of Amazonian fun guys (wry smirk to all lurking psychonauts), that San Francisco loft was as rock'n to P. Gabriel's "Plays Live" as Polk street was below to its majestic crush of Halloween tricksters.

The two or three thousand years it took to find my body (somebody, ANY body!), open my eyes (the other two), crawl awestruck (and mad-laughing) to the window's edge was so perfectly choreographed by the soul-thumping tribal drumming of Peter's "I have the TOUCH", that when I finally, finding my balance to rise by double-palming the invisible bay window pane, and in a gesture as much splitting its seams with equal parts appall and awe as benevolent blessings for my devotees below, I'm sure we both knew (in/after that FLASH) the photo he had just stolen of my right hand was going to be stellar.