blooming
like wet ink
across the sheets-
it spread
like a sigh:
slowly

These words; they
tumble down into
strings and strings of spaghetti
and loop over here and there

They run around
and run amok
and
I see them everywhere

The playground is getting dark
It's almost time to go
But finally I smile and lean my head back
And then I go and swing some more

I dangle from my neck
Swinging to and fro
Isn't this playground lovely?
I laugh and swing myself some more

I tighten the rope a little
There's still a short while to go
But better safe than happy
So off the shaky seat I go
Swinging to and fro

I hang from my rope
There's nothing left at all
There's a smile on my face
As you watch me
Swinging to and fro

Those things look exactly the same
as everything else
Yet they seem to shine with an internal luster and a
glow that exceeds apathy

Those lips don't speak words of following
they speak words from the heart
This envy does rise up like the tide
I wish I don't play the part

Skipping stones skip and shout
Across the surface of a water that I'd rather not see
I turn my head away from the rest
In order to fit my second best
Into the gaping cracks left over in empty cartons and clanging bottles

Hear me call, dear oak
Mahogany heart
Let the light linger, yes please,
do
In the fading evergreen spirit and the glows of the birches
Humble me through the susurration of dusk