More or Less (day 1636)

Listening to me. Listening to feelings transpose into logic at a thousand frames per second. Listening to a new widow sigh on a train into dark night.

With your help I have gone a step beyond. An echo off in the distance as a bat flaps it’s wings in pure silence. But my heartbeat has become deafening, your pulse as elixir.

Listening to me delicately tap echoing waves into a silent-still pond, fireflies becoming breath upon my eyes here aglow. And a memory, just like you said: life is not more less.

Overdrive (day 1632)

He’s got a memory that’s eating,
She’s got the car in overdrive.
He’s been on top of execution –
A silver goblet chasing her.
It’s one end into the other
And a sky that fills producer.
He’s been a picture in a locket:
A rebel – swallow hard,
He’s been a reason to escape here,
He’s led the movement from the start.
Escape into pure darkness,
He’s lucky he didn’t start this.
It’s been forever after,
Just like it’s from the start.

Ceiling Lines (day 1627)

Lines upon my ceiling cause me great grief.
They are not parallel.
Their asymmetrical zig-zagging
Cover up cracks that look like
Two dimensional waves along a
Broken shoreline
Which leaves me guessing the next time
One of those waves will come
Crashing into my bedroom
As I stare up wondering the cause.
Some of the lines have even
Made their way down the wall,
Like an infection yet to be quelled,
Striking through the crown molding
And into the mauve like a sealion
At a pebbly beach in autumn.
So I close my eyes and focus on breath.