Tangled in all the

things I think about, I lose --


more and more contacts.

An old telephone
hangs unused on the wall
What voices it heard
as people made their calls
fade into the ether
scattered electrons all

Dashes to dashes
dots to dots
All those things once said
now forever lost

A to Z and all the letters caught between
that line themselves along the shelves
and rest between the bookends,
they don't have the words I need.

A to Z, and all the letters caught between
I can't fit them together anymore,
I can't make them sing,
curved lines and crescendos to ****** the ear
with honey soaked harmonies.

They fall from my lips and slip
under my meaning,
tired and worn,
crumpled in my hands.
Or is it my hands that are tired
of these frail words,
showing the ****** remnants of ambition?

I put them back until I need them again,
for something simple,
a conversation with a net.
Hellos and how dos,
the pitter patter
of banter
on my tongue
designed to hide the heart.

So I will let them rest
until they sing to me again,
or I find a new alphabet.

Alot o ****
spe akstot
hehe art
**** hi sh
ere poe
m hwisp
ers sweetno
things to
thee lbo
w.

The more concretely

you tell a story, the less --


you'll be understood.

I've got my rose-colored glasses on  
And skies in my eyes.  
I've got stumbling thoughts in my head  
And a few choice words (for you),  
Trapped in the back of my throat, (just for you).

I've been sitting at the piano,  
Staring out the window,  
Thinking
how strange it is... that;  
Well, blue is associated with sadness  
When the sky is so beautiful,  
Like you  
When you're laughing  
Because of  
Me.

We never really say "good morning", do we?  
It's only ever 🫂 (a blue hug)
We never really say "how do you feel, today?"  
It's only ever "I need coffee."

I'm trying to find the expressions,  
But the keys keep playing the wrong notes.  
It ain't right

Blue skies
Aren't empty
They hold
Clouds, resembling objects,
Always drifting, changing
Making me feel
I'm always free-falling
What if it falls apart mid-flight?  
Will we survive?

The sky has never been so blue
My vision has never been so blue
I don't think I was made for blue skies

I'm not an Obrina Olivewing butterfly.  
My blue isn't true;  
It's just the way I see light right now,  
A false perception
A state of mind

but I...  

I've got my rose-colored glasses on  
for you
just for you
My one and only
🫂

Blue

He is not a spy

and not a child, just silly --


with his secrecy.

Your eyes speak so pure,

in a clear language, your head --


does not need a mouth.