Sometimes I think my love is resting on the couch from the sidewalk picking 'part polyester nesting
an undulating thrum manifesting I'll tell you at the kitchen table that I've been nowhere lately
In the park across the street is where we skip your track meet my legs damp from where we sat
Now in the cool centre of December with no personal effects to speak of you tell me a story I'll misremember
Is there power still, an ember your boss holds your check again and I call him up and quit for you
Close my eyes for a second your nails like little almonds where they touch my cheek
you lift away and I fall asleep.
I copied sufjan steven's rhyme scheme from Casimir Pulaski Day here, doing a lil experimenting, trying more story-telling, more structure. Don't like it that much but that's ok because I'm always growing bruv!