folding up

it was there, when i woke. arms crossed beneath the pillow stretching glances across the room. i know i could smell the change in life.

there was a rumble inside me. bending forth from my lips and beggin me to go narrow go long go the short way home back again it all comes clear now.

i was waiting on something but nothing came along, so i begged for a new chance at things a new glance the way it goes the way it falls we all go down with the sun.

so give me here, one more instant i can still hear the heartbeat of every nation i can still hear the way it's supposed to be supposed to claim the life of all they ever were. it's the last road i've been on the last gasp of rattling cages losse fitting slothes and bare breasts. we need stark raving mad cops and eye gouging drug lenders spot checks of cars if we're to use all the thought controls.

how can we fall when everything is lips and hands and gestures that mean put this here and take that from there and roll this on and take it out before you go before you shoot it all over us all over me i can't lose if only you can be there for it.

where is any of this going?

so i'm leaning into the sun and feeling the wind across the hairs of my neck and wondering where it will fall from if i stop meaning it when i laugh. wondering where it will all go if i stop trying not to exhale this one more time before dawn chokes us all.

where will you find yourself these days?

i am waiting for a chance to go the way it called for but no one ever said.

can i have love without sex? fear without hate lust without greed can we ever go lower than we mean it fucking bags fucking bags of shit laying us out laying us low and we can all reach the sky if we really mean it really try to go that way and tell no one noe one nees to knwo we tell ourselves what is it supposed to mean if we don't talk about it.

let's lock ourselves in great closets with only breath mints to light our way we can tell the truth if we mean it we can tell the truth if we think beyond our digits and our felanges and our brainwaves left over from not enough REM cycles.

it's blinding the way you look at me when there's no truth left to be told.

2002-12-21 | 2:29 p.m.
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