Look behind, a shadow follows, morning till night,
at sun down, it transforms and waits, no curtains needed,
look around at night, see that mysterious bushfire,
some happened beyond time, heaven is your imagination speaking,

I stand on a flow that never stops and put all my hopes in love,
there is nothing that doesn't change, I stand where
many others before me stood, I forget that, but events repeat,
I stand naked on a rock with prehistoric markings,

my shrink will associate it with my desire to go back,
my loved ones whisper in to my ear, "Hallucinations all,
will be alright after a deep sleep, you're tired, mind a dark forest"
why overburden oneself with memories beyond time?
Reasons are fading darkness, when looking beyond the mind,
all you now pass through is a dream, seen in sleep, one sleep to the next,
*How many galaxies are to be hopped in this intergalactic travel?

Allow me to hold your breath for just a moment,
I long to figure the reason why you breathe,
And why it is, your heart continues.
Persistent machinery of wicked wiring,
And unknown roots.
I distrust anything that can work without rest.
It is not natural.
Breathe in, breathe out.
In rhythm with the drumming in your chest.
Stay in time,
Remain suitably in line.
And do you know it now yourself?
How it is,
Or rather, why it is that you exist?
Because without any explanatory factors
What s the point of anything at all?
There must be some form of reasoning,
Or you'd be able to simply slip off without struggle
As you wished.

You are full of empty,
And I still don't know how that can be.

I'll get you to laugh,
and you'll forget for a minute.
I'll lay by your side,
and feel you struggle in it.

When we're together,
it's you, me, and your other.
When I gaze at your face,
I can't help but wonder:

Do you have space for me?
Love for me?
Anything to spare for me?
as I see you battle daily,
with this intruder I cannot see.

You can't stand my love
and don't want my pity.
You withdraw from the moment,
from our home, from this city.

You are full of empty,
And I'm still figuring out how that could be.
You are so full of empty,
is there any room for me?

Everyone at the gym is a slasher,”
I explain,
“actress/writer/actually works the front desk full time.”

Wyatt tells me he goes to the gym to hook up with guys in the sauna.

“Yeah, I always see you boys in the see through showers
that face the front desk.
I get all hot on my shift and have to go home alone.”

“Well, you know how us guys are,”
says Wyatt,
“Why are you laughing?”

“Because it’s true.”

He gives me his number.
“We should hang out.”

“I don’t know what to do,”
says Wyatt.
“Betty Blue at The Egyptian maybe?
Maybe the shooting range in Burbank?
I want a drink.”

“So drink,” I say.

“All I need is a forty and a sack.
Why are you laughing?”
asks Wyatt.
“Wouldn’t even have to go out.”

“Hey Wyatt, thanks for callin’ all the time.
I want to do something,
but I only have seven dollars.
I tried to go dancing with my friend last night,
Made it all the way to the club,
but didn’t have the cover and had to go home.
I’m bored and tired and it’s hot.”

Wyatt reminds me, “I have my copy of Women for you to borrow.
Chianti and spaghetti at my apartment for dinner?”

“Sounds great,” I say.

“Let’s get the five dollar bottle with the straw holder,” he says.
“Maybe we can splurge on garlic bread.
You know, my roommate is fifty and broke.
I hear him crying every day.
He still tries to get money from his mother.”

“I’m broke,”
Wyatt tells me.
“I have my cds at a pawn shop.
I may have to skip town. I have some trouble.”

“These things happen,” I tell him.
“Call me once in a while.
Let me know how you’re doing.”