to say that something is or isn't takes great courage
and as we hold hands in the middle of the street
the pavement cooling off in the strange summer dusk
i stand and look at you and you know
i went there

to the dancing baby- bled flowers
and small grey eternal suns, in the dreams of fallen angels
i went there

to see your small hands hold an apple against a grey wall
or at the very least become apart of it
to count rice and raindrops
to realize when you have to wake up and you cant feel anymore.
there is a long
staring
eagle headed breeze

i went there
to the empty plastic bag souls of my friends
speechless and holding out my hands
and dying while laughing
eating
drinking

shes the real prize here so don't get tired of standing out
cooling down here in the blank asphalt faces of god and ******* and most disasters