april showers
destroy your umbrella
leaving you with a mutilated mess of metal and
polyester cloth.
april showers
seal your windows
blocking up your room with dust making you
clean with Lysol.
april showers
muddy boots
and wet pant legs, filling up the laundry basket
with time
april showers
clean city streets
and invigorate may flowers with their cold, wet
goodbyes
slick city
slick city streets
(driving home)
lit up by traffic lights,
on an empty road.
it wasn’t meant to be.
and if I think of you now,
I know I stayed too long.
I moved two years away
and you were not a necessity in transit
now you translate what could be
can these two be disparate?
you always find a way to get to me
A 1
wet night,
we fell heavy like the sunshine
at the end of day.
recall your decision,
tight around a cigarette.
exhale deep attempts
to dispel your regret.
you’ve already lost me.
wet night,
words cramp in consequence
strained to convey one thing to say.
you pretended to stay,
tight around a cigarette.
exhale deep attempts
to dispel your regret.
you’ve already lost me.
start with my mended heart again.
start with my mended heart again.
start with my mended heart again.
start with my mended heart again.
double helix
tricky like DNA, distance is exceptionally long
but not at all far away.
waltz #2
call scene on this memory.
I wrote the parts we played out
and imagined them taking place prior to them actually taking place;
so did you.
call cut on this memory
you told me how it would be
when you asked me to sing you a waltz and I knew then;
so did you.
