(no subject)
these are the things i have:
freedom and the sunday ritual,
our serbian refugees, our blueberry beer
trapeze artists and
spending midnight under smoke and electric lights, if i choose
i have my ink pens and dishes and enough in the way of sweaters and blood
silver spokes and gravel roads, gonzo and paved hills,
waking up to the blessing of red and yellow
i am whole and can't complain.
i have no right to feel anything except for the flying,
no right to shout anything except
hello, i am here!
i am here.