spinning into knots. I stand and leave my books for fresh air and some kind of space between headlines and expectations. the clouds tease rain they can't deliver. trees weep their final blossoms with the wind. every branch in full bloom once upon a week ago. leaves sprout to weigh them even lower. nothing for more than a moment. ebb and flow forever.
you catch me dreaming between cups of milk and the machine. I like it when you smile because I thank you with your name. you remembered mine today. momentary triumph and beautiful eyes I don't know. something less than madness from the time between my screens. a boy with a name like a bird.
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