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.