I don't think I've been this captured by words
since I was back in the past
twisted a little too close for comfort
by the dark-haired poet and his green-apple cigarillos.
There's a special place
reserved for those who forsake sleep for laughter,
and poor choices;
I'd show you the way, but I falter
and sink into the ground
like so much rainwater -
like so much thought.
This isn't me capturing your imagination.
Let's be clear.
This is about payback for promises
some other incarnation made and failed to deliver on.
This isn't about connections,
attractions - the failures
trial trial trial and error
bring.
If I were spontaneous the way you clearly aren't,
this would be about more than forging metal between two minds
far too perfectly suited to the welding process.
Let me hear your voice
and let it be song -
the painful, chaotic ring
of agonies unspoken.
And tell me when you do,
what the hardest part is
of being you.
