from the watering can on the window sill
to films that possess no name;
everything turns me transparent,
everyone is able to see & see & see
how little anything matters
& it's dark, cold, awful
down here.

all text & under-used
((under-absued))
november has the fastest pace,
the strangest weather, makes
the best promises while
delaying december. i
never leave this feeling,
too afraid to simply leave,
wanting some ceremony of nights
& leaves & simple beats.

older, older; she's been getting older
while hiding away from vicious light,
dancing & avoiding. she's unsure &
she lets me know it & she kisses
away any definite thing.

we keep standing in wonder,
marvelling at empty skies.

i never stop sleeping
i never stop waking up