every minute making
i saw her face again tonight
sometimes i've buried it so fast i can't remember what i'm mourning even as the tears are drying.
something feels unsettled when i see so many faces
so many locations where i used to roam, used to run, used to hate the hussle...
i'm no longer there (in so many ways)
though it continues without me-
she haunts the same places we used to go for early afternoon coffee,
a walk around the lake,
a late-night party
a drink and a dance with eachother before deciding again
we were enough for eachother's entertainment and went home to laugh (or argue) and make love.
now she's re-written the same neighborhood without me.
it should be easier for me,
i move away i moved apart i got to start
a new story over altogether...
and still somehow i smell the desert
between the skyscrapers i feel the brush of pine needles against my skin
i kick the dust up in my own eyes i
miss her between every minute making...
i miss her lovemaking.
i feel like now i know
i will always be looking round for another unless i stop and really SEE
that who i have in front of me is what i've asked for and what i want till i've assured myself there is something else
and grow premature immpatient waiting
do i know what's good for me?
how active am i in my making?