(no subject)
adjectives, t-shirts, four-letter-brains,
we accelerate.
THe dizzy churning of my
swirling, curling daze...
They rear-ended our back door.
Long hair, awkward line breaks, and cheap perfume,
the street lights take another selfish breath.
And I on the bathroom floor,
and ready to be soft again,
ready to be home again,
pick up these old melodies.
Never again will I trust silence.
Cupping my music around the ears of this page,
this place.
With warm breath I hum and hum and hum.And I hope for you to put your head back on that body,
pull your head above that bathtub.
luke warm coffee and stale ciggarettes,
distance won't sit still for this.
I won't sit still.
We collide, he and I.
Rub shoulders as we glide and stride and pass under their staring glaring feet.
dance, distance, dance.