justwrite 22 february

when I think of the answers I give they flow smooth moonhoney from my mouth my eyes look sad in someone else’s mirror but I am seeing clearer thinking longer than the snow can fall the sun is caught with fog in the tree and we are moving on in streams the light switches around corners and lines up to take number to make claims on each detail we fail ourselves when we stop listening the snow glistening on itself collapsing into the relief of being a part of something bigger shivering into its on answer and questioning nothing to lay to lie to honestly truly sweep the sky in an interested glance to dance through a conversation with clouds I am allowed to say these things and you are allowed to listen we take turns earning interest although this is not the first time I’ve said so these images and words weave through absurdly often their sweet sounds lasting longer on my lips and when I tell the stories of thinking the ideas the lists the plans the thoughts are so clear I can hear the future writing the day and nighting again around once more we tour the cities we bake up villages of our own designs we change lines and trolleys and skyscrapers for the mistaken harmony of some other place because here it is here it’s clear and there are fearfully few who know it fearfully few who choose to look within and around instead of elsewhere and far but this is not my subject this is a collection of items gathered but back to what matters is the licorice pressed against the window and turning me to sleep