just trying
and wet toes
over and over on the days that seem to melt
one giant puddle for me
to spill into
sliding out brilliance
into the streams of goop

the diamonds shine but I don't know where
and the slime covers each of my eyes
digging further in the midst of time
Not a prostitute but I'll take the fine

grain of sands
in many of all again
relentless washing
each smile and every lie

When we were met outside
in the jungle of course
I was impaired and still
I wanted to recognize you
and at first I didn't
I believed
it was all make-believe
and I knew I would be upset about it
but I knew it would be an adventure

so when I wrapped up in your new arms
in that big jacket you wear
i hadn't yet computed it
I know your face and its quite
the best face once I become used to it
over and over

I like that you let me decide
to slip my hand into yours again
and I liked spilling out all new adventures
and I liked laughing and tripping and tapping out
rhythm with no measure-lines

I wonder if ever by chance we take a step at the same time
when we aren't together
and if satellites see it
and they think it is a funny thing

You are strong and shy about your honesty
I am just strong and shy
I want to know how I change
and what you think I do over here
We probably have very elaborate and
incorrect ideas about it

"isn't she a good girlfriend?"
I cannot respond to that
but it is all I want to be
weather or not you say it.
and I want never to have to wave at you
but I will wave at you when it happens

You caught me like a salmon swimming upstream
didn't you.
when was I so wild and reckless
When was I filled of
tears and willpower
When I was still ready to skin my knees for it
And I would never fall
and I was so alright
with never having someone to talk to
I remember not tacos
and not the beautiful sun
and the slipping reality

Now I am not a fish at all
I am a lady, or a woman
and this is all quite nice
many friends and a lot of stop
which is good, even if i wouldn't agree

I'm thinking about it really, quite a bit
seconds or minutes and what to do with them
disrespectful accounting repeatedly gets me far and well behind
and then days themselves take me far away
to the blades by the Regency
smoking past the crowds that sometimes we were a part of
and checking the movie times
because it was a good waste of time if I needed one.
And now I need one.
And with the great time we are having
and the way we are both grown up
I should at least be content to appreciate my surroundings
but
still, morning
I am reminded
that maybe you have sent me a message
or if its Sunday I might get to talk to you
(not today)

I don't
how many miles
how long a walk
but I cannot even make it
to the studio
to go and make art
or at least keep myself occupied.

I don't have enough energy to roll a joint
less the energy to smoke one
There's a banter on and about
films and eye sores
cooking and drinking
and there is a lady on her bed doing lord knows what
but so dignified

is it new years?
my body is confused
its a
chip,
a salsa, a tea
mostly is a remembered Saturday when we were sick
when you were sick more
because I was better
and it was my fault I was careless
but insisted
that feeling better
hours spent at this activity and I was unaware
that the lapse in activity
could bring
peace and comfort

But i could not do it now
forced a bit, but
Not one bit about this is
happy

not that I care much
about the sad hours
I know they happen
but tomorrow
will not be as many hours
until
less hours become very few
and soon I will be as high as any amount
of weed could put me
traveling almost as fast
as I could call out to you and say
I cannot wait to see you!
But you know what gets in the way of that?
stuff.
god-fucking-damnit