now that i know what i'd hoped had to
be in mind was true and refused (and just
in time), do you wonder why? it seems
i let up with the dents of a near-collision.
i couldn't call, and wrecked and turned
up missing.
but, until then, i'm cutting to
the end:
it's cold in the light
(the one we never seemed
to find).
i opened the door instead, but, you knew
the lock (and the way i was looking)
and still not a thing was said. i guess
i can show that i thought i'd never
have you long. it's a wall that you feel,
but you're already slipping and away you
slide. can you take the ride? what
did it mean when we stood with our building,
slanted: high, and we spoke of harder
times?
i pulled the rafters down, but the ghosts
were only dropping