by now you know where to find me
if i’m not wandering through a daydream,
i’m probably off somewhere living it out
they’re always seeping out of me, my dreams;
i’m always leaking.
but it has been a cold winter so far;
now my inner abstractions
crystallize, mid-escape from my skin—-it’s too porous, isn’t it.
i’m working on that.
at least now my sanity is somewhat justified
when i study my breath as i walk down streets
and pedestrian crossings,
fists balled deep into my coat pockets,
searching for meaning,
lost memories of love..
cold decembers have their perks