20061029
01:20
I can come back
eat dinner
chat like I never left,
a well-adjusted adult.
One swaying glance,
and the gravestones
holding my memories
pop into focus.
I will drive home
moving over these roads I
slept through for ten,
then eight more, years.
Make my way back
past your doorstep,
to a bridge over that river -
so many nights,
floating -
the roman candles of the sky
have not burned out here.
I might look
and see:
those constellations I stared at in
books and movies and on television,
this black page in a
book of maps for life.
Those long highways -
filling space between cities -
dotted by electric(white) road signs and
billboards.
I would drive to a home I left,
fall through the door into that bed.
Falling asleep,
can't help but tear my vision
from my favorite book of maps to
notice that time has shifted back one hour.
It could have been convenient -
we can move back on land,
yet never through time.
0 something something somethings
0 Comments:
mail lj scrobbled
10/11/05
10/12/05
10/13/05
10/15/05
10/17/05
10/18/05
10/27/05
11/14/05
12/14/05
01/01/06
01/09/06
01/22/06
01/27/06
02/01/06
02/04/06
02/12/06
03/03/06
03/05/06
03/07/06
03/21/06
03/28/06
03/29/06
04/14/06
05/04/06
05/24/06
05/26/06
06/14/06
06/15/06
06/20/06
06/28/06
07/06/06
08/18/06
09/01/06
09/02/06
09/03/06
09/23/06
09/30/06
10/29/06
11/14/06
01/14/07
03/23/07
05/11/07
08/07/07
08/13/07
08/24/07
03/12/08
04/11/09