caught.

certain days,

there is an incessant rhythm.

it is pounding

it is pulling

it is dragging soul

and sighs into it's vortex,

where all the colours of your intentions

mix up to muddy brown.

maze.

bright white halo masking yellow light and blue

horizons behind soft, blanketed

rooftops, crowded with winter's lace -

there is a bird sits

atop it's weighted wire

unmoving cold claws clinging.

graceful jerk of neck towards

distant crinkling branches in

this higher winter world,

heedless to the squeak of beings

below, their tread upon the ground

a topographic maze of white and brown.

study break.

you were dressed in orange

head in hand

white kitchen light glowing down

on your evening at the table

glowing down on your piano teeth

and your feather hands

and your nest of papers

you are the soundtrack to these words.

keep.

there is a kind of floating

that can be done

it can

it can

it can be done

when you let

the song

be

it will carry you

in that way

in that way

in that way like human voices do

like they do you up

and keep out empty cold

pink.

it was a sudden

lilting

without a breeze that brought me here

it was a piece of

cotton

candy stuck between your fingers

that was all i could think of

that silty past with it's

sickening sweet hopefulness

that this is not

the way life is

not

the way you have to keep conjuring your days up

drowning in naiveté

sewn.

if you have the sensations

in your fingertips

if you have the sense

will you buy the idea

that once in a while you can use your hands

to fold

to press

to cut through the thickness of it all.

words.

i will take your words

and twist them quietly until

they make me think

you see me

you love me

you know me

for who i wish i was

you will take my eyes

and turn them around until

they make you think

i see you

i need you

i know you

for who you really are