third

hair of lightning

we just might be the instruments that keep beat to Salvation’s symphony.

i’ll meet you at the tennis courts

if something occurs by chance – that very happening of that event, above all other events – the fact that it even occurred at all – is it still then chance? is there such thing as chance, coincidence, luck – when what could have occurred did not occur and will never occur because time cannot turn back on itself? is chance merely an agent for destiny?

clapping

life can be summarized
by this one example:
a boy and his friend
taking a video camera to the cafeteria
for days on end
hoping every time that
something good will happen

deny

The city is covered in wings of grey and lavender, laced with the rustle of rain and the gentle lullaby of a breeze, edged with tears. There is a soft glow, despite it being midnight. There is a soft glow.

I am writing for you and I, tonight. I, unworthy and stumbling, and you, quite the same. There are a few questions I would like to ask you. The first: who are you? The second: what is a man worth? The third: what do you believe in?

It’s been a long time.

third

and it is like i want the guitar strings to cut into me with their melody – to cut into me‚ to wrench through my skin and make me alive‚ make alive those days my heart knew you were a home i would never leave and i turn it up louder‚ louder‚ drowning in the weakening essence of you‚ the dying nostalgia‚ the knowledge that you are thinning from my bloodstream. like a child i miss you‚ like a child i love you‚ like a child i lose you.