following

[periol]

it's been a muddy morning
your footprints left tracks
leading every which way

and every white empty space
that was carved out
will never be clean again.

you'd rather not know
all the places where your traces
appear like a twister in the garden

like a spilled glass of wine
there is no way to rescue
the situation

there is no hope to set right
all the roads that turned left
while i was sleeping off my night

the only option left
is to follow them all the way.
when i arrive

you won't be there anymore.
that's alright
i'll be following anyways.