10h ago in Journal 📝
Day71-84
D84Flow
Everything is falling into place.
Everything in its right place.
There's a place in time
(for everything)
Time for new things in this place.
(please)
Fuck,
This place is a mess
D84Unpack
Day seventy one grateful,
seventy two, where I need to be,
seventy three body rest,
...and the rest is a fuckin blur,
thanks vegas,
As if 'vegas' was a code word for depression,
quite the opposite, in its flashy multitude of distraction,
followed by the fine art of distracting myself 101 home companionversion when you attend 6 performances in 7 days (w/ 2 different gals & a phil in 3 different cities).
Oh, the taste of new lips
Thin, eager & w/ a certain wild blue-eyed smile that inhabits the majority of your wandering thoughts long after the(ir) taste dissipates.
Yet still, your postcard cuts through my boney mailbox, like a hot knife through (the) butter(y carotid tires of my road weary heart).
Mutually perverse.
Ferocious and feverishly flawed.
Was that our love language or were these sincere audible reverberations upon the air just longingly lost in translation?
And what tongues do you tend to speak:
Tied up & twisted,
Degrading & 2-D
Straight forward & sincere
Or is this a language yet to be gasped,
Fanning to penned
Eagerly awaiting its maiden uttering(s)
Tongue tied
(together)?
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Day71-84
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