I've sat in circles, in the center of the room with faces flush for conversation in a way I've always known. The walls have ways of fading, the faces all grow faceless. Their words yet spilling where their formless mouths believe, in these rooms I've all but left, watch my starry eyes recede. I've gone to all the spaces, to find the in-between.
There’s a certain tinge to timing. When words are worked, and perfect letters lift a curtain in the way they leave some lips. Time tested, for smiles left in airports where I never turned back; and before it’s known, a scene starts moving, unfolded from the former, and people, places are more than walk-pasts and dreams-ons. More than memories in the face of the fatalist brevity of the best encounters. That certain change. The tinge of timing rinses, off-white to bright, and the desert shines to summer.
it's been easy to be lost lately. or distracted, unfortunately with open arms. i feel the winter faded into new faces, wide eyed conversations ending dually meaningless when the finish couldn't suit the start. a taste of welcome spring, skin on skin in star-crossed flings, renewed in flesh and bone and the sweet heat spells in ventures far from home. on we go for foreign wild fare, as the cool breeze blows and spring slowly drags its toes to summer, for freedom, in dog days we dare.
it started with a song. from ancient to annuity, back before we knew at all. now in this glass reflections stain the places that we saw. left a mark in circles drawn concentric, and though clandestine times they knew me by, the center started small. now i am, then i was, and here we are memorials each dawn. the bleeding back prolific, the trials, tears austere. it started with a song and now they're all for here. so smile back, a while back, a toast to you and years.
we left in pieces once rendered from such malign, from token majesty to new chapters, in lead strokes from pencils across oceans I can never erase a past, but I'm always left remembering, and in that quiet gale unsteady state of mind I think back to the beaches and our ready, set, decline. the past was all once rendered and the drawings cast aside we walked along the beach with reason, and the sea that stole our rhyme.
the sum of it all can never surmount the tears and trials of outracing your wile. too many turns too much speed too much retrospect to avoid the spurn. i want it all at once, at once alone, at once along with everyone. i want it all with you and you and all of you come too. i want it all alone and everyday forever blurs forever. on the spur of moments forever greet the world. we're all beginning. we're always ending. we're only bleeding til we're mending. and all your truths are only true the day the wisdom comes from you. always long, always lasting, in my life forever cast. left the nest with youth. left with heart, left abreast aware. photo-blessed the world with love and moments, tokens left. but what of us, what of friends, did we all do wrong? are all nomadic ties romantic sighs romanced from all of you and i...are we the lonesome lost romanticized? are we all alas or are we right on time? doomed to dance in self in shadows, doomed to reminisce. we have all at once caught an eye, felt a blessing in disguise. all at once relied on virtue spry.all at once held through hell in the heart of heat and smiled.belief beyond a doubt, when armor falls to see. where love along all coasts in lines intersect we anchor off to be.
this blessed binary, this only other self. person and persona through the encore every day. the past at last will come to play, but in the hours in between who forever came to stay?
a vein that runs through me that still belongs to you, and when i tap that rush, that flood, that fools excuse...so only now i'll whisper still the truth that pours to chill; this place it taps a vein in me that still belongs to you.
feeling fading contemplative for the big things. anthemic lullabies, in love with the fight songs of life. dark corners. bright lights. flash forwards. big cities. lust and lace. undercover under sheets. first loves, only loves, lonesome loves. last kisses and long goodbyes. longer nighttime drives and the starry smiles binding childhood storybook lives. newfound friends and reconnecting. family ties, family trials. old dust speckled on every memory and every past time that always comes to shine. such constantly inherent yet always uncanny truth in grand design. the laughs. every teared up, breath stealing, unmistakably finite fucking laugh with the mad ones. tears. deaths. taxes. lazy sundays via late night saturday conversations, candid by the low lights. east coast winters and southern summers. the music. always the music, all times and tones and every note a shrine. those who know, the dreamers and melodious minds screaming soft words loud from wild eyes. endless zen in retrospect.