Sometimes I am still in high school
feeling alone like a fool
on the margins an arm’s length away
a nobody with nothing to say
just out of pace
chosen last for one side in a game
but I graduated
moved into the world to find my place
but at times I get in a clinch
and still feel on the fringe.

The narrative begins at a point in time,
Somewhere adrift at open seas  
Where polymorphic abstractions surfaced
The blends of life,
Dancing and prancing along these envisioned
Waves

Splash of color there
Dash of color here
A streak
A twirl
A visage of refraction on the fringe
Of her hair: A path  

And
In ambiance we once strolled
This path to elliptical essences
Green, green, green, red,  
Hypnotized in fervor, but alone I lapsed  
In seconds,
In minutes
Into pages of scores  

She, my lore to
Dimensional shifts of dreams and open doors
That I once wished to stroll through
Along with her

But now I smoke in absence of her exhale
Her spliff to my lungs: distant and regretful.  

Fragmented.

i imagine i watch you,
walking barefoot
through the afternoon

your hem dances,
sings the rhythm of your feet,
you smile
at wonder that rushes you with small hands

you drink it in to give yourself

there is a gull-down sadness folded in your beauty

a blue tenderness in the lilt of your wrists

a lock of hair to lift from your cheek

and those brown eyes