WATER & LEMONS

A man in a large truck asked me directions to the name of a road I didn't recognize; "I'm visiting" I was saying. I said, I'm a visitor, and kept running.

my lungs are currently learning to tie their shoe laces, over and over,in and out and through the loop like the poem about the bunny to help you learn, I can feel it all.
If this isn't love I'm afraid of what is.
I say hello because this is the rising and what else can I do but greet it? Dip under its waves, like a dive but less graceful. You come upwardly and the world cracks open, with a voice smooth and languid, "the things life forgets to be" it's saying.  You're about to feel so good you'll confuse it with feeling nothing, this is a numbness like the afterlife.
This is a free-form fox trot in your rawboned, compact arms and  it's up to you, I'm stock-still and the clock in this building sounds like the end of the world so move my bones for me before I freeze.

If we're speaking technically only hell could rise; the heavens would just sink, like melting ice cream down the cone. If we're speaking technically heaven and hell could only meet in the middle and grab our hands unapologetically, they might say some things and you'll probably pretend you understand but I know it sounds like a whispering piano and if you said you spoke its language I'd know it was a lie.
We're not sure where we're heading but the sky is a dark singing blue.
We're not sure where were heading but the letters of your name are like blank white pages in a notebook and my hands feel like the pen pressing with the ink. 
Tell me you love me so much you'll turn me inside out. I said, this isn't about sex and you said the minute I said that it became about it, specifically.  I sink, i swim, you're right but you're wrong. I've made up my mind so many times it's become a bed you twisted and turned in all night, a mess of white sheets you slept in with nightmares you never thought you'd survive, i've made up my mind and what a tragedy, I've made up my mind and what a one man show.

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