its blue.
and you didn't even recognize the color scheme
when it came flooding through your window
with the early morning fog
to echo in your dream
and extinguish it softly
in a single strand of smoke
rising slowly from your tired lips.

its blue
to compliment the surreality that you sleep with
some nights, manifesting itself into simple,
sinful grains of sand that slip softly
through your fingers
like the hours in a day
that shift with the motion of this
upward distance that you always wished you had traveled.

its sand
and it rises to collide sleepily with the perfectly
geometric waves of horizontal blue
wrinkling and folding the honesty
of some bed sheets
and the inches of
subconcious suggestion
between always and the unexpected.

this summer sound is ringing low
and silent
like rain reverberating in the back of my chest.
its familiar and vague
like the air soaked uncertainty
of the year before last.
untieing knotted ends
and picking up the old frayed ones
to tie them up and continue
where they left of
unfinished.
the absence of some soft blue comfort
seems to fabricate a dream
that wrings out my heart
and hangs it on the line so this breeze might
sing it dry.
its just like before
but we've all grown up
just a little bit
and there are questions left
unanswered
and confessions left
unsaid
that we never had then.
i fear that i am too eager now
to embrace the colors in this sunset
or admire the light of some moon
that returns and returns
and replaces the changes that have taken root
to replant this deja vou
of the phone ringing
and the cement scuffing under my impatient feet.
something about the city
and the light bouncing off of blonde leather
accentuating the smell of breathy liquor
and the seas of words
strung together in eccentric conversation
sewing up the gaps
of all the traveled time of separation.
i miss you
but somehow you don't seem real
anymore
as i wander on and on
into 'maybe' and 'i remember'
returning to that electric longing
flaming magenta that never drained out.
but you'll be real when you come back
and i'll fall for you all over again
and i'll be falling in every direction i step
unsure of how to live time
so that its right for the right hearts.
until then the soft blues fade with the
saturation and spill of these
raindrops and coffee stains.
the only evidence i have
to make me long
are these rough spots on my knees
where the carpet burned love into its stitches.

stand before this candle light
stark and juxtaposed,
the half lit shadows dance an orange glow
upon your skin.
as you crawl between these haphazard sheets,
beauty is stifled
and rises to escape your lips

i love to hate loving you
and i would
if never might swallow time in one caffinated gulp
but the minutes race on
creating miles
and miles of roads and hours to grow between
my every waking heartbeat
and the sweat that beads and drips from
the psilocybin headache you drown in when i'm gone;
that beauty only serves to reduce me to tears
when i think too much

i sink softly beneath this thick morninglight
pouring through the cracks of the blinds, and
dripping off my hand to where it rests on a fresh sunburn.
reaction sets my heart to racing once again
in the reality of impending
detatchment
because of the immediate, intimate struggle
within distance and proximity
and everything that never filtered out
three years ago.

when the light descends,
this road will cease to fabricate beneath and
you'll find me lying in a salt pool of consquences
for falling twice too hard.