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for m |
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the sun has almost fallen of this side of the world only a small light still hanging in the west waiting for someone to say goodnight we have come to the milky purple end of twilight when you can (almost) still remember how the sun felt as we talked this afternoon maybe you don't realize how powerful you are (and how i love you) i have lit a candle for you next to my bed when i awoke from sleep filled with your dreams something small enough not to protrude into the night but still give me solace and enough light to offer you my thoughts it is now midnight i don't know how many days have passed time slips by with only the opening and closing of this book to mark any intervals |
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i need the sun to shine i need to hear the windchimes on the porch i need it to rain |
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bone box of buried secrets i've built monuments in your honor i always denote structural landmarks |
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today i would settle told my brother yesterday my brother told me to wait a couple of months |
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there is block of trees don't look says the crow that overhanging tree unlock |
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morning (dreaming of meredith) it's been so cold strange waking dreams roll over and over wash away the thought hiding from something i can't describe judgement of time thru a window unspoken decisions guiding each thought or action another sip of water turn the alarm off needle of the arm to a joni mitchell record and five other excuses to let me forget change my mind and make me stop thinking about it |
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waiting out the midday sun (for meredith) this afternoon was the perfect set up |
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twilight (waiting for meredith) twilight lights in perfect eclipse (closer than one can imagine) intersecting cross currents |
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late night (missing meredith) dinner with an old friend pushed me over the edge i hum in time with the road |
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micro hole in the wall waiting for the last ring and
what i could possibly say to change your mind however all is silent and
the wait will have to wait it is said that the brushstrokes leave much
to be desired things i will never understand needing to say something
but knowing resistance is futile and will never work small resistance
of force and the oscillation of a million small motors at work to create
something perfect, lasting and pure until next week when it will be taken
over, assimilated, copied and left for you i could apologies but it doesn't
matter beyond the passing of one lazy afternoon and one more lover passing
(passing) alternately pushing and pulling in two opposite directions until
i realize this isn't why i came here this isn't why i'm here but no one
answers back above/below maybe just all around waiting (never that way)
belly's full of nothing but still eating given time for consumption and
nothing else passing thru five different doorways hoping for transformation
of self/hate/pity/self or maybe just sleep without dream cold wind and
sweat hearing voices but only mutterings things that never happened and/or
old daydreams of youth of passion without regret without memory of tomorrow
clanging of metal and chirping of insects praying for nothing and having
no thoughts beyond emptiness space and loss looking to deeply into something
that never happened and has no future beyond a postcard and lunch leading
to silence a fate deserving better than the waiting which never comes
the walls my roof glasslike and polished showing only the starless night
tomorrow being a year since our first hello if i did the math right calculating
the star charts and position of the moon sleepwalking in the semiporous
grey area of a |