we tend to go forwards,
or at least, where we think forward lies.
we round the bend anticipating the roar of rapids and a waterfall
only to find the ripples we created at the last corner meeting us,
splashed in the face by the determined kick of before riding the tail end of after.
the fate of floating circular in a small pond.
i don’t quite know how to say how i feel.
those three words are said too much
they’re not enough.
what is today from tomorrow if covered in the same emotional stain?
what is yesterday from today if the colors have bled off the page
into fuzzy spots the way nights look in the rain?
and what of the words in those times, and what of my heart?
the things i remember and cannot choose to forget.
the things i cannot choose to remember and forget.
let’s waste time
around our heads
love, one question remains,
spinning in the pooling circles of my footsteps,
fuzzed in-between states flaking off my hair and running down my eyelids,
forcing my head into a bow.
if i lay here,
if i just lay here,
would you lie with me, and just forget the world?