piano fingers on a sleeping airplane

if i was sleeping beneath a pine tree tonight, i would wake up and smile at the stars for a second, before falling back to sleep.  i wouldn't be thinking about anything that i am thinking about right now.  sometimes the people just don't fill up right.  and 20 feet to the north different things are happening.  like dancing, or love.  tonight my ribs felt like an empty bird cage, and i wanted to curl around them like it was all going to be okay, because it is, it will be.  it feels good to talk about serious stuff and to kiss you on the wrist.  that is the god's honest.

as the hive grows to the brink of a straitjacket

we are elephants at heart.  but we are as smart as pianos.  all this pushing and no calm.  there is a festering madness growing inside of us.  but we didn't know any better.  so we scramble for the only lights that can save us.  love or kindness or imagination.

the cracks your feet make in the sidewalk and the dents your fists leave inside music

walking downhill away from kissing you was what fire would look like if it learned how to smile.  i've been watching people and how tender they can be to each other and i've been walking through neighborhoods and wondering how it all can get so still.  i find myself really missing the moon these days.  and i am wanting to see the sun set, but i keep forgetting that days are ending and by the time i realize they are, they are over.  so.  turn my blood to chalk, so i can draw you pictures on the sidewalk.  teach me jokes so i can mess them up and become embarrassed.  and i don't care if my socks match, ever.  cause i'm starting to remember.  its the simple things that i need.  your hands feel good in mine.  and you taste like the chapstick you used to eat.  and this sounds more intense than it is.  i guess i'm just trying to describe a feeling.  and that's just not something i can ever do.