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Close to the Action.
still reliving tonight
or simply still living it
my eyeballs swell,
admitting the brightest cat-eye night
and she fills the screen
with the movie that we missed together.
“the more she talks, the more i swoon”
it’s 99, and still not june.
her arrival timed for instant gratification
subjuncted by my convocation ov the moon
and all her stars
to hear me in my whispery slowcore bars
“scares you to know that we won’t be...
watching the sa-ame su-un...
or brooding the sa-ame tho-oughts...
in the sa-ame part of the world.”
“perfect” i say,
i can’t feel it
in any other way.
i can’t fill it in
but anyway...
the grandeur swells and swells,
overspilling the banks
like a bull market on the rise
i dare not close my eyes
all night i wait for what will happen next
what i will say
or how she will move
the aqueducts
in a breath that is taken too slow
it is not enough for me to know
there is a tide
in which all these things
rise and subside
i see the crest on the wave ahead
and for once, the push and pull
has me balanced,
and inside.
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