sweet sundancer.

your laughter dances as a flame before my eyes, laced in easy confidence. dance for me, dance for me, the command comes in a melody i did not know you had in you. my lips part for the sake of refusal but your ears have swallowed themselves and hidden in your hair. do not listen and you will hear no disappointments, shouts the cynic that lives behind your eyes. again you say dance, so i do. and i dance until i'm skipping and i skip until i'm jogging and i jog until i'm running and i run as far away from you as i can, swept up by the wind and pretending that if i just extend my arms i could fly. but there is your laughter, following me as a smoke cloud that will always fill my lungs.

fallen snow angels.

a stranded bird who has no wing - a music box that can not sing. your heart is a landing strip and i make no apologies for recklessness. been so long since i have slept, care to have a seat and loan me your dreams?

i'll be buried in energy drink cans and shopping bags, tapping away to the ticking of a clock that's reminding me i do not sleep enough and scraping along the empty plates that i should have filled with nutrition. my heart will explode with caffeine and cynicism; you taste tart. why so bitter?, the beatles will complain.

i see your shadow in my nightmares.

staggering through allies as though intoxicated by the surrounding air and the intensity of the temperature. a shadow. an outline. the manisfestation of your presence in my life becoming a ghost; a piece of the past and bitter portion of self history. and i call to it, reaching outward to touch you with my fingertips and feel for a moment that you are real despite your shades of black and white and lifelessness. you turn, looking to me with eyes i'm sure no one else could see, and disappear. with out reason, with out cause, and with a look that says it's not what you want but it's all you know how to do - you disappear and i am alone in the ally. the intensely cold ally with intoxicating air.

i am with out voice; sound. i am with out color; life. i am with out breath and creativity and power and the ability to wake as a human rather than a robot with a schedule. i am a space holder, waiting for someone who would know better what to do with this potential i do not wish to utilize. a thrown away apple core; a ditch you avoid on walks and aimless drives. i am the broken swing children see no use for and the pebble that you threw with no direction. i am a rut. i am a rut. i am a rut. i am a broken record. i am going no where. i am going no where as fast as i've ever seen anyone go. i have no brakes. i have no way to stop this.