We are entangled in the fabric woven from the warp and weft of Life's fibers.

We love the idea of escaping these threads of thought that restrain us; each seeking to find that quantum of solace that allows us to float free.

But there is an uncertainty inherent in finding ourselves. Breaking out of our shells to explore new possibilities poses as a forbidden pleasure to attain, and often the exertions required may seem to overwhelm the escape it offers.

But...

Those random rewards, those instantaneous attractions, those excited states, those resplendent resonances,

Form the bonds that keep us human.

chocolate covered fantasies
and peanut butter dreams
pin me down with rope
grab the cold whipped cream

paint me like a cake
with ribbons of sugar and gold leaf
watch me come undone
as my wrists feel your teeth

decorate me with candied raspberries
along my stomach and my sides
tease me with your lips
let me be your guide

Time has a way of rushing past
It has a way of disappearing.
With time how it is, we need to take advantage of it.
Don't let it fly away
Hold onto it as long as you can
Love who you can, while you can
Do what you want to, not always what you have to
Don't let time be a memory
Live in it while you can
Because soon it'll all be gone.

Inside there lays a sort of guilt.
Insuring that the electric company does their job.
The only problem is most nights there is never anything worthwhile watching.
I often question the receptacle, the thought of changing cable providers.
I thought of saving myself, turning the tv off and going to sleep.
But where's the fun in that.
Watching colors run frantically across the screen.
The flick of a button brings a different hue.
A different click of the screen lock checking for notifications, plugging my phone back on the charge.
By passing all the channels at least twice before finding a show that fills the 30 minute gap.
The hard part of favorite shows is that most time they come on when either there's not enough time. Or someone spoils the ending.
Either way here I am looking for something to devote my time.
And here I am, seeking
Some kind of reassurance that you'll return after the infomercials.
My new favorite show.
You

And out of the blue drops an awkward moment
The kind of awkward moment where nothing in itself is awkward.
Just a moment that passes in complete silence where nothing is actually wasted
nor publicized.
No focal point, nothing to rebuttal.
The kind of moment that is considered awkward, usually right before revealing the same exact thought.
The same exact expression.
Just a matter of opinion. Expressing the simplistic.

How awkward would it be if I were to think of you in a moment where there was nothing else to do.
A moment of vulnerability In an affair of stating the obvious, there is no way I'd consider this out of the blue though.
Really and truly there isn't anything of importance that can be found here,

Except the color blue but then again that should be obvious. Like how unimportant was that really?

You could have went the whole day without nothing being said. Just based off the thought alone.

I suppose the only thing that makes it somewhat awkward is that I didn't.

And really I just used a lot of unnecessarily long but short words to tell you that you were on my mind.

I know right, the perfect *******. And to think you were probably doing something important.

But since I now have your attention and we're just throwing things up out of the blue.

What color ******* Are you wearing? Are they the see through purple ones or the red see through ones

shreds of time
sparks of light changing
the world
fleeting revelations tipping
your presumptions
indelible strokes imprinted
in your bowels
impalpable scratches dragging
an eternity of memories

shreds of time
black lines defining the boundary
between before and after
inclement discharges breaking
your heart
rambling crackles resounding
in a solitary echo
unpredictable wrong notes
that marked
your life

A
Drop.

Then it came
Pirouetting.
It came clattering
It came guttering
with furore and fight
with rhythm and rhyme
like many dancing feet.

On steel roofs
On downy pines
and baobabs
and old cracked earth
Pattering and shimmering
drawing dust from dirt
women and men from houses
enshrining the sky with their trembling hands.