the booth we all covet
is open and i sit in it alone
taking up all this space
so that i can try not to fall asleep
as i read and listen to music
and procrastinate on my laptop
and look at my phone
and feel the absences and the losses
of nameless entities
i am romanticizing the drone learning has become

A person who lived it up in his youth dies in old age in misery.

do it,
the duet
the one where you turn and I grin and you stop and I spin
and the music never stops and becomes white noise and then one with silence
and when we still the clocks stop but the music never slows

spring is eternal,
slow coming after three seasons of waiting.

I ponder on these summer months,
of endless hours with thousands of people passing through,
but all I remember is your smile,
and our overlapping knees.

holy light
on my skin
cool air
patience thin

asylum walls
brick and stone
windowless,
so alone

do you forgive me

in the spring,
apples never fall
and in the fall,
blossoms never bloom