Laser focus

Laser focus.
 
I want to write always
in a bar with a woman who owns beautiful hats
and her husband playing music on a small, stacked piano,
her fingers dusted in paint,
the dogs skipping her feet,
on headlands where the sea cries,
whips up and kisses our skin,  
in the reedbeds,
in the darkness
where two white beeches fell,
to hear what's out of bounds
come screaming to life once more,
on the stage, whilst holding gaze,
the audience like a cloud.
I want to write until I'm greying
and tales hold technicolour,
until people come back to view like videos
and the mind coils
around all that was worthy,
all that was mine.