i guess it's not easy in the 21st century. we've all all got this to deal with. we've all all begun to look around. maybe the girl you love leaves and though you don't know if you love her ever enough (as if that's a sign) you go out and seek, you dip like a return to oz, you wander and fall down behind a cafe, closed. and one day you welcome it in.

i kiss your knees as you go swimming, i count your shapes when they have gone. Maybe a deep desperate desperado want. i keep it. like i want to own it. you, as much un-ownable as any or ever. when when i guess. win win. work at eleven, oh! and how the old becomes new and you'd known it all along like a sour apple toothpick you once sold as a kid amongst the others back in seventh, half way finding a good way to be although constantly worried and vastly disoriented but we almost always are, i guess. the aurors, i mean. the tiny saviors who've got no place to be.