the used-to-be and me just have so much to say these days

furthest front line like the line of your cheekbones engraves you into me and maybe this time, unwind we'll shake the rainclouds away, worse than worth, we drive a stalling car to south side of cities un-around by night: i can count on the moves you make, adjustments to your stereo (a doorway folds away like free air follows us around). i'm finding lately just how you said you said it wouldn't be, would be and you were right a hundred days away a time that froths like starbucks foam that isn't what it's mean to (this milk) isn't mean to be, one worried work sends shudders and counting down from ten makes lonely nights we find sometimes it's easy so easy to simmer beneath lids of open arms and sit awhile (you can stay) lonely stalker of the wind-swept way i'll find another way this earthen crawler of a home works wonders on the skin, one night johnny red diet, a half to sleep and sleep by half past nighttime finds you....so far away nighttime finds you so far...a way to turn it into something we can all learn from all live through liken you to ghosts that curve around the coast we're stories to be told and you're just one more (the longest is a sad line) the saddest in a long line not being there is coverage enough for any miracle.

and driving to the store, i find a hum that leans between the me and used-to-be, the used-to-be and me jast have so much to say these days something happens and one away chains down half a world one thought is all that's left to hold and holding you is so un-new like yesterday fades the way they say it will and i can feel it melting down like silk turns out the sky wasn't there for me and what can you say?

so tonight i tap away as tic tic tocks go by and movement comes across the corners of my eye, the corners of my mind sometimes night falls and you're alone (i'm alone) and swollen glands beneath the jawline of a figurehead, a thought i held for you (in some dark oil lamp lit room) everyday turns over and staring is so unkind- maybe i'm better at the sad songs anyway maybe i'm better at the sad songs any way i'll take it how it comes some summertime turns my way and soon, we'll btoh be hot from the same heat, both sweating under the same sun (one city is only away from you) and just a s good as something else we'll find our way we always do (me and you) and one word less is too many so news is good news one less way we'll find and me is without you, you is still...without me but what's the use of counting out days that pass the way they always do and let's just think of everything as some sudden splitting of the dust and in it there we were and sometimes that's the best it gets sometimes that's the best it gets.

it's 9:34 and something somewhere shines you up shines me out and dryness is our natural way (all of us, i mean) sometimes and so many sometimes [the word] the stars fall free- if a step back is all it's good for you take what comes your way not every hand can be a straight flush, right?

2004-05-25 | 9:15 p.m.
0 comments so far