Linger

I stay longer in the minutes of each day
than time will forgive me for.

These thoughts have lost their ways
in the indiscriminate brambles of my mind
and I linger here undecided.

Slowly


the springs unwind

après le soir/la soireé

Even at this hour
the world is incomplete

I've seen today,
and tomorrow:
neither resemble what could have been
or the hours you claim you've seen.

the pursuit of happiness

happiness is about the simple things

like silence,
or a conversation
a hug,
or a glass of magic

not that you would understand:

you think all of life should be compressed to your shades of black and white
on your terms
in your world.

blank sheets of paper scare me too
like blank soundscapes scare you sometimes
but
even crayons make their squeaky marks on empty moments.
ever try fulfilling them in between the lines before?

Mended Meanings

(and so we've defined our spaces:
you to yours,
each to each)

These moments are meaningless
for all the vacuums they deign to conceal:

you have your indecisions,
~ me ~
my indistinctions,

and between us,
this promise has broken the seal.

Contemplating

I left my watercolours in another land,
my senses when I lost the plans
today has come and gone again,
tomorrow might be a darker pane
in the window of all that's been
and all that could have kept me sane.