the fog grew thick
and the clearest sound I could
recognize was your
Voice.
I haven’t driven by this god-
forsaken place in weeks,
but it’s always a warm welcome.
instead of being ordered to stay here,
I have the power to visit –
on my own
free will.
the silk sounds of your
Voice give me the strength to
communicate the exact visions
in my mind,
where my tongue tends
to slip.
you take a shovel through the
dirt and grime that fills this
lot that once was an intricate maze, Walls
covered in vibrant green vines.
And I tried for
years to stop you from
watering those Walls – trying to
prove to you that these prison-concrete
Walls were just that. Walls
that make you clutch your
throat and gasp for air.
what I didn’t realize was how lovely
it could be to walk hand in hand with
your one true love surrounded by
over-grown vines until
this warranted
reunion.

– what it’s like to be in
harmony w/ your subconscious