and i carry this, it's heavy
a weary blue-eyed soul,
but no american atlas story
a gentle serpent's hiss
not a prince's serenade
and i've lost all the pens
to write your name.

hand in hand
we ran behind
cars filled
with
all
our
friends

and

arrived
at a flat
filled with all
of nothing in it.

dust we'll go
maybe days
sooner than the others
but tracks betray
our ago birth

bitter we are,
bitter as dust.
and nothing
can grow here
either.

only water
is our tears
we chased
we followed
to
our
des___ation

so she stands in front of me,
still as her offer
hand outstretched
reversing fruit
i dare not taste,
i'm long past deciding


see, you and her
so intertwined,
so opposite,
you carry seeds in your palm
questions that feed a lifetime.

mother fate is in your mirror
she holds a needle in her hand
i write the word "intertwined"
in her eyes
my pen is weak,
my soul, not strong.

the longest half mile
side by side,
each step a tear
and stride a sigh
my left shoe, repentance
and penance on my right
i walk down sidewalks
of words and silence

i thought i'd left it
another night ago
on a ten-mile run
in a sleep of crying
but it came back fast
true as an arrow
the pen proves
my quick is no match

there's not enough tears
no number of sighs
to bring me out
of where i've tread
the longest half mile
i'll awake from
to find my self walking
again.

i used to dream
songs for eyes
your lovely lashes
were my muse.

i carry on because i carry this,
it is both weight and goal,
it is both smile and swallow,
down,

immeasurable distance
through visceral time
i drag it along
slowing
slowing

and i look back again-
my looming trail behind
my eyes feel the tracks:
it carried me as well.

bright suns await,
i wish i could promise

this

to you.
but i know:
like jewels sparkling in the dark,
you reflect some distant light
in a color

immeasurable.

i'm running in place,
wringing out a rag
ridding the fabric of every flavor;
aspirations melt when the
power
goes
down.

i'm running in place,
wringing out a rag
air is underneath my feet;
solar systems fall when the
sun
goes
out.


and every word on their lips
praises potential
and everything they do
looks so good on
paper.

and every one these people
has ground to run on
and every one their smiles
looks so good on
faces.


i'm running in place
wringing out a rag.
but i all do is lag behind
cars filled with
all
my
friends.