20070807
0151
it's been a little while,
i should not wait.
it's been far too long,
those steps are washed.
your hair still rests there on the ground,
threads tangling together with those twigs.
it was early and there was that mist in the air,
i can still feel it filling and soaking my lungs,
it feels like something was rusted in place.
i should have had a plan
to follow with a row of checkboxes,
but all my paper was crinkled.
and, it's not all my fault,
i'll say it again and again,
your favorite dries too slow.
i'm closing my eyes now,
act like i'm clear water that can flow.
i'll run backwards in my head,
fall through your closed hands
and rest close to you again.
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