just wrote this lucid, spontaneous memoir
backed out of it to center the corresponding picture
and lost it all
can't get it back in the same way
for the thoughts passed through me
as all thoughts do
were they really mine?
all i know is i can't sleep
and the warm night makes me hungry for a good conversation
where i can listen as much as i want to
and my burning desire to be seen
exceeds my desire to be heard
a burning desire to be
is what it all comes back to
how funny
how quickly we can lose what we thought was ours
this time what was lost was a little memoir of a moment of reflection
what might it be tomorrow?
sweet dreams reader.
