who I want to be
non-congruent--like the way you tuck in your shirt
it will not change, not so easily
intention and meaning are not the same
climb down from your perch to gather with the masses
invest in your past since your memory is now
take no notice of those things that have possessed you, instead:
welcome them as brothers
as pieces of your broken self that no amount of haphazard song can destroy
remember and hold on---for this is all we have left.
we sit there in the haunted parking lot
saying our lasts/firsts
shriveled dreams growing ripe with time
and our own foolish hearts electric as the lightning surrounding us
anti-climatic, I say
but my insides are swarming
I will see you on the other side, across the river of greatest grief and into the arms of coherency.
past the pressures of my arm are the luxuries of your future
and we will not
forget
this night.
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