never when

It's in the way the afternoons play catch and kiss with your toes
burying themselves in your back pocket with train tickets
and things to make your breath taste like mint

a tradition of recall
and replay and remember


      There weren't any birds, that I recall, the day I loved you.
And to replay the eradication of a breath within a breath I suppose I forget
      willingly, just to remember


Of course the chatter of the crowds diminish when fine-tuned focus is called upon
      straining skin in anticipation of connecting warmths.
Luminosity kept; shining stars between our fingers when you held my hand

                                                                            Do you know I hate your smile?

                                   The way I could not bear to look at it
  
                   I turned my head aside, but passed my ears through your laughter
took a cocktail shaker
             added a twist of ruby red  
                                        and added mine.

  There was a place I took you
     hushed by the hand
       and placed you in the care of my child smiles
                                            

                                                            There was a place you took me
                                                                         hushed by the hand           
                 and showed me innocence only changes bed clothes
                                                                                                    
I would not offer up a rupture
as clearly as I shine light on nothing

                                                                                         Do you know what it is
to become lost in all the things you were sure you had forsaken in brightest best
                                                                intention



a song i sing morning time is the same in shower metronome these words i get caught such is what we dwell upon suture accordance for the ever and allow is dread open is abundance is dilapidation of a freedom calling and the end is death of a whisper as the trees call hope for the spring





                                                                              I loved the way you hated how
                                       I could always keep a straight face
    and never when