stick’s rigomortis pried away before the rain.
The air above me laboratory to keep above the imaginary height chart. Its chin is fully in the air and its eyes are fixed on limitless dark blue that pokes around and fades into fog.
We observe everything in its haze casing.
It radiates through us and arranges molecules in unfamiliar patterns.
The rain, when it arrives, and leaves too soon, will give us relief.
hello leads to departures.
and what we know
is shrinking every day,
in the face
of what can be.
Absorb heat and salt
In the places of dry and soaking
Stillness is the only choice.
And yet, to move…
In the night
Saying goodbye to the odd moments
Where possibility becomes plausibility.
And then just unlikelihood.
And if the stars align.
And the paused moment is resumed amongst the handshakes.
Would what we said make more or less sense
In the great scheme of it all?
Would you still recognize me?
I would hope the answer were obvious…but there is…
A dangerous side to obvious.
It is always hardest to say I told you so.
The victory is never how it tastes in dreams.
Here, it is bitter, acrid.
In one moment, there was hope for a brighter future. We sat and talked of it. Tears welling in our mutual eyes.
Looking at that moment, and seeing that the natural line from then to now is a broken affair with more bends and breaks than old forest trails…
I’d give anything to be wrong.
One can only hope
Cycles such as these,
Will not remain unbroken forever.
One will long
For the day,
The day where the cycle splits, smoldering pieces taking the cold night
And we shall all look on
Change was always
A distinct possibility.
The sound of smoke and mirrors
And the ringing of bells.
Lost in the bushes,
Hiding from the parade
Of what is already known.
Hard to look at twice.
We know what it means to be changed.
We have been there before,
At the dawn of so much sunshine.
Pretending that this was not a disappoint.
And open eyes
To the words
Said in any way except
From left to right.
All of this is fixable.