7/8/16

Out of nothing

There's a thick sweet fog - so heavy I could, I could see it suffocating the humidity into itself. Creating a rise and fall of dew-
as every creature in it sweats and sighs - and I, I accelerate inside that weight.
Every space of air as if - heavy hot grasps that reach everything.
This is what I've been craving.
This wearing of the atmosphere - where the season is what you try to make. Try and screw (it up) - and lose and learn - and laugh and stretch - and know someone again. If it's just for a summer -
if it's just a dance you can't forget, and stories on the rocky, and calling as the wind calls dinnertime.

I've been out the long day looking for myself.

Now the old house looks like a haunting - true farmhouse - so dense in the fog that it's falling away. (Don't I relate). Bugs starting as it gets dark, and the sounds...
What could be out there in the woods and marsh beyond?
What could the frogs say of bullish ways and dewish fawns.
As the neighborhood kids come in from their day of play I wonder all of that - as tattt-tat snaps
the doors far off and the siren of goodnight, goodbye, I like you still.
The lights on inside, and seem so cool (from this heat) - I'll walk up through the yard, be seen in and out as of nothing, through steam meeting night - and I'll playfully give 'em a fright when I arrive.
Smiling at the thought.
And thinking then - which love is next?
:)




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