it seems so simple yet so unruly and blurry
how you just came, disappeared and left no trace
in a matter of a few hours.
in between dark and dawn, you decided to forget behind these things:
a handwritten number: pencil, old style calligraphic sevens and little circle with a x inside;
one copper colored hair clean and silky to the touch.
you say i didn't leave you much space to explain
but
you didn't leave me much chance to understand.
i am drawn to you, don't ask me why, don't question my intentions, i ask nothing, i expect less. i just think there is more to us two than just fiery kisses.
have i ever exposed myself this way? with anyone?
oh fuck. i hate this part:
[question]
i shut my eyes and wait for a reply.
– – – –
but then i revise old behaviors for new passions, to calls, to pieces missing and others to be built
and then all is straightforward
i would take you and sweep you and dream you in million frames
and some would be black for the moments that are not describable, that are not even worth putting into visuals or words. they'd be only ours anyway
they'd clean all doubts.
i would take you and imagine mechanisms, global things in which i don't believe. i would place myself inside and think them slowly from the outside.
– – – –
a streak of birds flying flows
exactly like some magazine pages, yeah maybe i'll have another beer.
and maybe i can read in the foam why i am not with you.
it's all or nothing but i might have skipped an f.
would you cradle me or are strong arms you're looking for?
either way it's a part of you i am not pretending.
i feel i already have it.
