ensuring the memories were tightly braided,
i let them sink into the sand of my mind--

Deep inside, i'll know the color and the sound
but Cerebrus only wants to breathe a better Now

no hippocampal fire will stir me to a conflagration--
but they will come to swell my guts
and lean their heavy stones on my pen!

their heaviness infects the ink
and presses down the paper

so sink deeper into my veins,
you crazy totem-knot
shapes and scents,
places and songs,

Faces--

away from my nervous fingers
whose ceaseless twisting frays the cord.

you're better at rest and inside,
and stick to your tragic clashes of color.
or will i forget i'm a villain?
and weave new reds and blues
into this sad, sad story...? No,
i'll come loose to you
like i should
like you're saying,
this
is how it was always meant to be.