perhaps if there had been a picture of us
I would be able to believe I had actually met you

our shared days are to be counted on one hand
and before you reach the middle you’re out of breath

in all that was said
we had somehow made our ways into doubt

fumbled away in sunny dispositions
and supermarket meltdowns

the stakes always the highest
yet never tangible

how can you love what you cannot hold?
I am doing it everyday

or did you want to keep me folded in your pocket forever more
because I won’t take a lifetime of hiding to be mine

instead I’m rhyming you again
as if you’ve lived within my daily drifting

and catch fractions of you
in strange places and on foreign faces

recently I found your mouth on a doctor from Oslo
your hair on a super freak trying out punk-chique for the first time

your piercing on a girl trying to find her way through the haze
to figure out a way to be and see things
in her own way

your skin tone on a babe at that place we never went to eat
your brilliance in a book filled with short stories
that I stole from my childhood library

your eyes in my bathroom mirror
staring at me again
convincing me neither of us were really here to begin with

I mix fear with water
cleaning us off again

before the borders of my dreambox start to lend themselves hands again
and make me attend to their unsustainable needs

greedily and unfulfilled

until the days fade into disarray
and my begs for you to stay

seem to have ended in
this sideway dance that renders us strong enough

to wrong the songs we’ve never written before
to lure back the days
even when they didn’t exist

-D.