Caught a red-eye
into
recovery.
Chasing women
dressed as angels
dressed as oceans
dressed as saviors from the bleak.
Another grey morning where
the geese
won't fly and
the water grins up at you
begging
you to jump.
Come
swim into existence
and chip
away the headstones of the
long gone.
Scratch
away the years
and childhood fears of
falling and failing
and finally grow stale
with the
old bounty of happiness.
Follow
the current
downstream
until your knees
are
so
insulted
that they will weep
little
red tears.
Think about it.