ami am holding something warm for you for when i see you again
tall and empty building flute
reconciliation dream but running out of people so the mind just invents like I imagined who my thief was who took such good care and was a kindhearted anarchist in the end
certain flowers turn to mush if they leave, look at us
felt a briefest familiar spark
an allegory of an incongruence of negatives and positives how everything seemed configured in a way to be a gridlock
air moves gently north into my right ear the power outage came, work is white and hell, i ran until i was dripping with sweat walking up the usual 5 flights but in pitch black thought about the northeast blackout of 2003 how orange and infernal i laid in cold water running in the bathtub when the power came back later today it rained softly and then with whatever amount of intensity one could personify with rage or catharsis or whatever all i ever say is how pretty how pretty