clear blue fabric lines the streets
before my eyes, it is punched through
and then repaired, by warm-colored fingers
of people, standing there, afraid to linger
but their eyes pierce the veil of silence.
I've turned my music down and taken
off my sunglasses to listen to the smell
of light, it's gnarled and frosty and soothing
breezing and ruffling, something a bit too tough
an athlete of a wind, not concerned with me
approaching a higher goal, playing rough
through my hair, content to let it be
but not- at the same time. We
change the world we live in, regardless
of intentions. Flow through my vents
or my windows, I don't care, I
will still breathe you in and inhale your scent
even though I try to drive so far as to leave you behind
the seasons pass, grow, and fade away
I forget the worlds in which we used to play
something in the careless whisper, I can hear the ocean
in your heartbeat. It's a word that you say.
It's you, shaking your hair down, in one particular way.
And it's me, driving and forgetting and learning to give you away.
Day by day. Day by day.