There is a quiet truth
That I often will touch lightly
Just with the tips of my fingers
Back in between the stardust
Of the moments where I simply hold myself up.

I called mama back
Asked her not to ask me if I've met anyone
Anymore
I said of course I do and am
But lets just assume not
Unless I bring it up because they are worthy.

Silk white shoes
I imagine them dancing along the lines
Or cracks in the cement
And I avoid my social paranoia
Like a plague of barbaric flies.

I'm back now
You and you
Have returned to my mind.

Nothing but my lamp shines
I breathe in and out.

I breathe in and out..