Explore straightaway

it was always meant to fly by, to keep spirits high like stoplights, the sky, the passage of life in non-rhyming sighs never in the offing or in the realm of possibility, more beautiful faded into memory— always meant to fly by, to live solely in the mind.

would footfalls attract attention when movement should be kept at a minimum at this hour did wisdom outweigh attraction when page turning was more important than learning the words

call it quits with all these lists and sentences contending that love is limitless when i say it isn't, when i say it's finite, and i am right. and in all these fits and instances i am alight and i will cry out and burn passionately at both ends and when i am dead and gone i will do it all again.

make a permanent departure, hear their wind come down with vultures where we started, where we bartered our hearts to continue aimlessly heavenward, and through steady indications of hell remain in halos, stinking in desiccation while sinking in oceans, stifling any notion that souls should be accepted as restitution.

for the skin and sentiment finding me in the endless spinning retention and wringing the years out, you'll fix me, cement me in sediment, stand me up, study my memories to hold them against me, and speak me into unbeing.

dogs walk in while starlight pries the door open. preferring cold hands close around warm necks, i am choking the cancer from the constellation, continuing life and going high. kept open by hooks, our bodies on tables under blaring lights, staring eyes and no one captures your heart like i can, i am certain. dogs process darkness as divisive, constant common sense. divorcing truth from what is seen in the closest of companions, you are sucking down the wrong oxygen. i am kept open by hooks and cursory looks from you, reduced to colors i am not allowed to choose.