(point) versions of the day inform themselves to you in hopeful parade of acceptance each one such a grande smile and each one a thin illusion but age has taught you that no version is accountable for its reality
pause on the edge of the frame playing with some nothing in your hand to occupy the fingers run your foot back and forth along the trailing boundary of the street and do your actress highest performance to appear to be concentrating on some conversation you have internally of some earth shattering importance perhaps he will approach perhaps he will ask for a cigarette light no that would be bad, you don't smoke and would have to refuse him you don't want to refuse him anything
folding and unfolding the worn page of the thought that your life is stuck know that your in the mood for that special somthing and it seems like nothing short of perfection to that vision will do at all but life is a dance that keeps changing rhythm and partners plan all you wish if that keeps you busy when bored but when it comes to it put such notion aside step into the light step up to the moment with your best face and hope kiddo best ya can do, hope kiddo
(counterpoint) breath your way slowly into the moment keep silent the doubts keep still your fleet foot wish to flee hold fast to the the thought she gave you before she disappeared up the road you wont be alone ever long as your here in my heart
madness i feel like i will drowned in the rough noise of the world at the verge of my doorway fills me...washes away all thought with dignity and reason but you can loose yourself and responsibility loose the reproach that you could have done better that you should have tried this or that
there is no comfort in the words she left me with it was just another rationalization
i hesitate endlessly hesitate wishing there was an easier way wishing she was still here to help me see the way all the angers slip away in the alone night and your left with the memory's of the person and all the things she was to you
(dusk) alone alone alone
the part from her point of view (in italics) is from something the dreadlock girl described.(the dreadlock girl is of course Jezebel Rose A.) is not a cooperative poem.