why don’t I get you?

Perplexed
and kneading
this air with my thoughts,

desperate
to soften
the impact from fraught-

ed years
of unconversation,
now hurling at speeds

alarming,
non sensical,
vengeful misdeeds

of mishearing.

I watch
syllables peeling,
disarrayed.

Natatorial surprise –
those little ________ can swim
in the blues of my mind…

 

This song popped up and I love how Anne-Marie covers it. I had to write¬†something…

She loved this dream

Well, not at first.

First there was terror, terror as the engine stalled. Right above the middle of the ocean. And there were loved ones on board, asleep and unaware of the rolling waves. Waves voluminous with the sinister of the blackest galaxies…

Waking with the resolutionary tearing of fabric, she froze herself in the dive, the dive into the two dimensional whirlpool. The whirlpool of her own pencilled colours, symphoning themselves into place.

The green and the blue.

 

(I’m posting this song again, because I love it, and my brain seems to like how it messes with it…*smile)

in the morning light

He flicked the ash out of the car window, and she knew that was the signal for her to continue. He thought he was good at pretending to listen, but she knew. When he did those long exhales he was thinking about something else, probably the zombie in his dream last night, the one distilled from the mirror that devoured him in slow motion, record time.
But she had sat on the floor, taking notes on her typewriter, writing him back into existence.

Damn, how he loved her.