an audience of chairs (your black neighbor)

96% is pretty satisfying. not the actual score but the path to it. things are starting to move in a new, but familiar direction. I have never been this far before. November 2017.. I never got back on.. even after all that time, getting ready, it fell through my fingers. I was so good at letting go, shot out like I was, refusing to believe, afraid and diminished. there was nothing I could do but try to make it up to you. maybe there is a word for all this, perhaps that word is transference.

I do not wish to be top heavy. an inside joke, from a long ago spilled drink. I do not wish to go back to a time, one where I had no mind. I do not wish to sit on the happy memory side of these fears. I needed that valentine’s day meeting. your woman’s true beauty. needed.

it is a foolish stab at arrogance to ask for even more new mornings, but I am asking. strange to stop here and mention it this way, here without a sunrise, without a steeping cup. here without knowledge of what could be next, knowing fully, it might be the scars winding through my heart. I need new days, complete with new thoughts, an eraser for these fibroids.

the consequence could be a house by the sea, those bricks salted with growth. maybe it’d be better to learn to speak in whole signs never moving my jaw. saying it inside my head, begging her to go away. so…