Much to do,
and
no way to do it.
nodding your head
you say,

I

like the way you
only sing
very
early in the morning.

you
only sing when I'm
up.

Hey!
I don’t often think about it anymore
But there was this dream I had once
Sleeping next to you some long ago
Sweaty stupid south Florida night
And the whole world was falling apart
No one knew what was going on, not even me
But none the less
We were all stood there, this whole community
And me
And asked to go into the gym
Wait in the gym
And you were there beside me as we were
Pushed into this massive empty building
With the crowd
And I remember the blue tarp on the floor
How it seemed strange
And we were in the middle
Where there would normally be a big circle
Meaning change sides
And the crowd was pressing in everywhere every inch
And the floor fell into water
And it turned out we were standing on top of a pool
A very deep and wide swimming pool
And it was storming
The power had gone out so everything was just
Darkness and touch
And I was trying to hold onto you
As I fell back and down with what seemed
Three hundred people
Babies crying
The splash and then no sound
There were too many people
Weighing on top of me I was lost
Drowned
But the dream went on
I saw you climbing out
Breathing air
Finding your parents
I saw you board a plane that was
Trying to leave through wind and rain and lightning
Because something bad was happening
End of the world
Maybe
End of mine?
Definitely...
And I never told you, but
when I woke up I felt
so glad
that you made it
that you
breathed air

even through the
rain
and
wind
and lightning.

When I can't take the silence anymore
I type my little message,
send it to your cellular device
"Goodnight, sleep well."
When I really want to say
"I love you, sweet dreams."
And a few minutes later you say,
"Oh yeah. Good dreams."
And I want to kiss you,
smile at you, eat frozen raspberry yogurt
with you,
and I can't so
I guess I'll go to sleep.

The rain fell with the night,
all groaning thunder and vociferous lavender lightning
the water staining all it touched like old black ink
streetlamps dissolving under and into darkness dripping wet
and I watched from the cold side of a second-floor bedroom window
breathing onto the panes and drawing smiley faces with my thumbs

When the rain had finally stopped,
I was still sat there,
still thinking about how wonderful it would be
if you were on the cold side of this second-floor bedroom window
with me.

there is a buzzing
     it's coming from the walls
the tiny electrical snaps and synapses
the mindhive that seethes
the radios and beeping pulses
we have reached the
singularity.