![]() And I climb up on the roof and lie in wait. How is it that I should look at the stars? I drove out in the desert in a rental car. Nobody wants to drag themselves through the endless ruins of all there is in this world that is not love. Sometimes it feels like the only thing anybody wants me to speak of. I am lazy, I only want to talk about love. When there is too much midnight to ever express, to listen to his breath, and to lay again my head on his chest. I am tired, I only want to lie beside my lover tonight. What good are words if not to try and and get across, this river that ascends me every time we touch, and to obliterate all this distance I get so tired of. When I’m tired of unravelling all their endless kinds of truth oh I only want to talk about you. I spend all day with people who don’t think the way you do. I am lazy, I only want to talk about you. I’m tired of working all night long, trying to fit this world into a song. I know there is so much, that I should try and say, but we lay in bed, and leave it unsaid. When we talked it interrupted, and I would never know what it meant. But I never got used to the sound of the magpie it set my skin on edge, it called like a child like a dog like the wind caught in a fence. I never know what to say or not say, what to honour or betray in any given day. ![]() I drag every river for meaning, scrape my hand on every ceiling. But then again, I don’t understand anything the way I’m supposed to. It seemed like a shame, to give it a name. I thought about the man who called it a magpie confronted by the great expanse of his ignorance, he wanted to name it, to detain it, forever in that small phrase. “It was a magpie”, you told me, as you handed me a coffee, “the black and white bird you see in city parks.” And you pointed out the window - looking straight in at me - a black and white bird sitting on the fence. Running like water, two toned, and tangled like a wire, flowing, jangled, many sounds at once. I was woken up in the early morning after my flight, by a sound I could not grasp, I did not recognize. While the swallows go on singing, all the same songs that they always did. I brush the water from my skin, and I walk straight back in to the river I was swimming in. Go ahead and pretend it is how you see me best. But in another life - I might reach out to touch, and feel only calm. My t-shirt was wet upon my back, as you insisted you’re so kind to me. In another life - I might trust you in the way I cannot in this one. A body puckers the surface to take a breath. I can’t even watch the starlings fly when I know I can’t can’t count even on this, tangle of grasses. But everything depends on it still, if we don’t argue they will. And when they hold the election, this argument may end. But there is no other there, that I have found so far, no any other anywhere, but here. Like when you close your eyes - those stars don’t guide you anywhere. I try to really see the beauty, the blue and green, and light green, and yellow green, and blue green and grey green, and muddy green - but all I can see today is black. Water striders, mosquitoes pierce my jeans. I should turn this thing off, I know I should give it up, So I took a walk down the road, and at the bottom of the hill, a muddy river overflowed, and a swamp in the eddy had filled the ditch with bullrushes and reeds, black water puckers with bodies. Online, we talk, or say we talk, mute and block. ![]() I obliterate your positions, and you know just how to obliterate mine. The year was unrelenting, we argued all the time. ![]() HOW IS IT THAT I SHOULD LOOK AT THE STARS ![]()
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