Jet Propulsion

She sent me spinning, gave me dreams of centipedes and long, dizzy trips round red rocks, and threw me over clover cliffs. Symphonic oboes bleated cacophony from her little baby 'goodbyes.' Velvet bits of skies draped my eyes, rubbed blue, violet, and traffic cone orange across my horizon, mummified me, and twirled me topside over. Mysterious salty-sweet sensations slid along my lips. I craved water and she dangled it before me. Every time I reached she spun me round -- and reach and round and reach and round and reach. One last flip and flat on my backside I landed in a sit. She was gone. My head still spun though my body sat still. All around me flitted down velvet bits of a newly flipped sky.