I let you sink of your own free willinto the recesses of my memoryhurled our promises into oblivionturned…
there is mutiny in my soulmy heart unmooredin the midst of a torrent
there are three of us inside of meor maybe six, not sure
the crescendo pourof coffee into my morning cupit becomes a waterfall of wakefulness flowing…
if love is longingthen we have found something elseconstant attainment.
high with my green crownyour guitar’s ruby notes sangI danced on the street.
this cacophonyplaylist of our fractured history
when you broke my willothers tried to sell me backthe salve in my hands.
if only I could
have amnesia for these wounds
the way you seem to.