they were already straight, i just never noticed my posture before.
kept crawling along like i knew the words i had been saying had truth behind the meanings
soft swept by roads when my feet slide stripping ink meant for politics and money
i savor the taste of meat i cooked pressed between light and birds and the music of morning the vacant smell of cooked breakfast the vacant feeling of love in general
meanwhile, my hands bright with the prettiest blue veins.
i keep thinking of you, eyes shut, still before the wake. free from the shapes i was about to reate with my mouth,
and with my hands.
the absence of my breathe, bouncing left, right as i keep my word something i could never engineer.
ā
i started placing new woods, right at the boundaries of my favorite memories. exploring with my eyes wide, and observing new friends leaping from flower to flower to moss to and to puddle.
iām trying dreaming because reality will not hit yet.