i fear we have been lingering in the lowlands of partial fulfillment and the fervor of our sporadic laughter has been the soporific haze that has kept us lying down together, blissfully dreaming of salt covered safety.

dogs got it right, they just do what they do and then walk away.

studying every nook and cranny to find the way in, the thing to sever, a place to cut, a shining portion of the control panel that would mercifully render the shrieking harridan voices silent long enough to find a section of floor that looks like hope to balance my heels upon.

i stood on a sidewalk and flayed open my heart while the children of miscreants were shrieking at the mechanized carnival off in a quilted distance and you were there sulking in the car behind glass wearing the dust of a million women and i'm not sure that my skin has not sloughed off during some akward run away from that which hurt- that which is your fucking indifference, your fear of holding my hand in public.