the soft thump of leather boots
paints scattered across blue jeans
pen of black ink
nestled behind my ear
the sensation of oxygen
filling in my lungs
damp pavement
and melodies echoing
in my head
I am searching for paper
that figment of parchment
I have all the ink
yet I seem to kiss goodbye
the howling sheets
as I walk by
never quite feeling like
I should make permanent
my life