Tonight, mi amor,
un pedaso de velum. And
yes, isn't purple a color.
Life in a series of sucessions:
this morning I catapult in with
the wind and before I can leave,
I will want to kiss everything!
While alas, the you becomes
ever increasingly unimportant,
rippled green water, more similar
to the bumpy plastic in a marine life
display at the big museum
(fluffed gulls and all),
folds in on itself.
Chewing macaroon pulp,
sticky and hot, I overhear
the yellow brick building
creak mysteriously from within
and walk faster.
An echo in my brain:
lights on or off,
we can be naked or not be naked.
I am finding you difficult
to adjust myself to.
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