May 2015
A thought on which tone my coffee would have this morning.
Or who on the street would have my whole attention – think about the stranger before I fall asleep and get revealed to what myself does when the shell does not count.
A thought on the distance to the eyes I sit under. I would like to love you running out of all options. The cry over the city surrounding the crowd, come home in the early hours painted on clocks.
A thought on the need of all the driving around and the sun melting my face. Figures that open and close their mouths – I am listening by looking.
The Later is the Now and there is no exit.
Or who on the street would have my whole attention – think about the stranger before I fall asleep and get revealed to what myself does when the shell does not count.
A thought on the distance to the eyes I sit under. I would like to love you running out of all options. The cry over the city surrounding the crowd, come home in the early hours painted on clocks.
A thought on the need of all the driving around and the sun melting my face. Figures that open and close their mouths – I am listening by looking.
The Later is the Now and there is no exit.
