pointing the path where we meet. coincident.
reconciliation needs must pause until. contemplate.
no, not lonely being apart. lies. like this.
where have all the flowers gone,
they sang. a strangers voice. a crowded bus.
each ticket buys a memory. recursively.
here, on a mountaintop, this much closer to you.
a myth I tell myself.
not unhappy, standing alone. more lies. like this.
trade for half a candy bar. sweet teeth.
camel-hair smells like dog when wet.
sometimes a blanket, call this shadow home.
no doubt about what’s left behind,
one birdhouse and
but I forget. that’s the deal.