walking home vaugely empty.
I say, "This is my initiation
as the trappings of maturity
wrap me in an extra glittery present
with a lead and pink bow."
only days and (sliding) together
Like wicker-basket strings into wicker basket
how is your life? where is the weather?
what did we do to the swirling nether?
why do I try without any wings?
we say these and more troubling things.
time to wait and time to churn
sit back and try to learn
how to fill a sea with red hot ice.
yes, yes it would be. it would be nice.