12:04 am . ambrosia
somewhere in the back of my head
we're laying down in a field of sand,
maybe a savanna, a beach, or just the desert.
& you're playing an invisible instrument
maybe you're playing the fool.
maybe i have that faith in you.

sunlight touches a point across the seas
where you & i first met,
rested, conversed,
stood in song.

i found the sharper edge of night,
it was like an artwork
where the sky is for walking,
where the books are for talking,
where ice is forever&eternity.
it's where lyrics make your nightmares
& gentlemen won't take off their shoes.
people examine you through bleary eyes
& you sit there wondering
what the fucking point is?

then you're home & it's not-that-late
& you're waiting for the insomnia to kick in,
or you're waiting for the narcolepsy to take you.
...
then nothing.

waiting for the day that says
i have taken her without bells, caressed her & kicked her. i have stolen all her possessions & returned them in tissue paper, found the place where tears are poured & drunk that staleness of surrender. i have lead her through places where paths do not exist. i have given her my achilles heel & in return i ask that she does not strike it. i have seen the moonlight reaching for the waves & i have wondered why sometimes there are no answers.

if i do not falter,
will you think that i am brave?
i wouldn't believe it,
for i'm faltering inside.

nostalgia . uncertainty