music: the trials of van occupanther, midlake
it begins so quietly, with my bag full with candles.
four of us are in the room, sinking into the sofa & an absent smell of firewood (chemical-fueled by synthetic logs). lanterns beckon out in the lonely street and your house is all darkness and familiar voices.
the lights do not burn down but seep, spatter, surge across the mantlepiece in pale rivulets. (winnipeg winnipeg, let's go all the places we've never. you & i are holding out, so long as we hold.)
my telephone's trite lullaby pulls on the furor of syncopated conversation, too many dissonant dictionaries. i lean my cheek against the windowpanes, listening in the frozen seams. you are a nearby darkness (four shining, streetlamp rows away) but tomorrow already feels far.
we can slip between our languages (english when my meaning is obtuse, french when i need you to understand). laughter, darkness, wax dripping on the finesse of our fingers. i wonder whether we have only words, if there's anything to say.
four of us are in the room, sinking into the sofa & an absent smell of firewood (chemical-fueled by synthetic logs). lanterns beckon out in the lonely street and your house is all darkness and familiar voices.
the lights do not burn down but seep, spatter, surge across the mantlepiece in pale rivulets. (winnipeg winnipeg, let's go all the places we've never. you & i are holding out, so long as we hold.)
my telephone's trite lullaby pulls on the furor of syncopated conversation, too many dissonant dictionaries. i lean my cheek against the windowpanes, listening in the frozen seams. you are a nearby darkness (four shining, streetlamp rows away) but tomorrow already feels far.
we can slip between our languages (english when my meaning is obtuse, french when i need you to understand). laughter, darkness, wax dripping on the finesse of our fingers. i wonder whether we have only words, if there's anything to say.
1 comment:
i know those utensils.
historical utensils with days of my sweat and blood making them shine!
my utensils love you (that sounded sexual).
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