This is like driving through the rain.
occupying similar emotional & physical space.
She turned the windshield wipers off
to hear that distinct hush.
Each individual instance of rain
smacked the glass becoming
a discrete dot & the rush
of the car through time blurs
those momentsconnecting them / changing them
so that her eyes aren’t her eyes anymore
they’re only what you remember of them
the only color left is what you can’t let go.
You can’t recall what youreally said at certain times of crisis
& all this inability accrues the water
creates a sheen you can’t see throughbut it’s clear there’s something you need to be aware of
a force which you didn’t respect
& from which you need relief.
You have introduced a new narrative into my life
a structure / this architecture
& we will see if I am equipped
to fulfill this challenge
if I can be what you’re asking me to be
or if I am what you’re asking me to be.Now this course of already / actions I thought of as fixed
disintegrates / is unreadable
has stopped having immediate bearing on my morning
elements from yesterday & beforethat were dismissed are now shining & important.
There is a new way to see all of this time.
Light gathers slowly in the tree outside my window
& I believe it is getting later can feel that flow
but I’m still here imagining new lives I can’t stop
now that they’ve been made possibleby just one smile by the clatter of photons against my heart.
I thought I knew where this was going
or at least understood / had control over the variables
that might cause the course to veer as whenmy morning commute is fixed but fraught with disparate elements
that might cause deviation
a collision to shut down the lane
getting off the highway two exits early
just to see the trees rush outside in different patterns.
I am nothing but my own many problems with living
management / organizational difficulties
within the delicate throng / thrum of my soul.
If I knew & could generate / some coherence
would I immediately & gracefully cease?If I ever solved these mistakes & made them right
would I disappear completely?
The past is so easy to read
written on top of everything
though I know there was
plenty of intervening time
some of which took me awayfrom myself.
every building & storefront
in terms of what it used to be.
I feel as if I have to be declamatory
about my feelings or else that I
should make my simple emotions
smarter. More worthy of an audience.
Some people think that form
is what makes things worthwhile
but I like talk.
Cars zip bynot noticing the night.
Maybe what makes them real
is their spontaneous flow
that they aren’t forced together
with brute fists. I like things
to be graceful though maybe
even in that admission you can see
the chaotic energy boiling over.
Like how I traveled from low
entropy to high entropy.
Like how even thinking about
a specific crisis momentdoesn’t help me understand.