(no subject)

[crispnite]

when your fingers can't fit where they're needed
you find other means

a taxi driver with a pack of cigarettes
offering me one after another
ride home to the square
from the park

i hear someone thinks i'm slow
and relish that
contemplate

maybe i am
maybe i'm underdeveloped
perhaps he's overwhelmed
too far knowing
everything i have yet to understand
i'm okay with that

his moustache could dust the shelves
could stack the things
could redirect chaos and also, order

could recognize 'parent trap'
and why this is happening
and how it's a part of the understatement

that becomes muffled
in passing

that pushes cotton in the ears of others

that lets us stand, cradled in our own arms,
rocking back and forth
to music
we know and comprehend
to a feeling
we can't deny

to an understatement of a feeling i once had
one that made my arms lose all movement
all ability
to
function