Early morning rush to the head,
break bread,
make sense of whatever was once said.
Her life,
make that.
His strife,
take that.
Leaking slow drips like tree sap.
No map to help with the winding road called tomorrow.
The compass is broken but borrowed.
Fuck I can't continue.
---
The sun is too bright. Too hot. My skin it itchy against little green blades of grass. Spring was nice here. The nature swelled, purely happy for the warmth of the sun. Glowing brightly in it's presence. There's hands moving through my hair, but I'm not sure whose hands they are. Then his face comes in, blocking the harshness of the white. Clouding it out to black and instantly, I am alone with him here in the shadow of life. It's too easy to say things, words flooding my mouth onto the pavement like they were strung together just to amuse that other person. Bringing out your best and your brightest sentences, facts, anything, whatever you have that's worth something. It's all leaked out in perfect sync with theirs. Blah, perhaps this is just a dreams. There's no way this is reality. This isn't a place I've been, nor a place I've visited. No. This place is imaginary, and so is this person for all I know. This feeling suddenly starts to fade, and the white starts to blind me from that face.
Now I am alone. Alone and blind, incapable of even wanting to know what would happen next. Then, just when I think everything is about to disappear the face is back, as dramatically as it interrupted the blindness before. That smile is awfully soothing for one I hardly know. I'm rolled over onto my knees and then there was no more sun in my eyes. Yes, I could see very clearly this face. I returned it's smile immediately.
---
