a cheap date.

i track the shadows
across the mist
the fog that hides away
the glowing pain
of technological advances.

i search in the conversations
of the settlers
who float in the flow
of an endless stream of
clever, organic reach
bubbled up by the wind
that blows them away, and I myself
fly, a few miles away
on a half-fictional highway.

i’m looking for the folklores
the old, and dusted names
in reprinted editions
in the pockets of
your ragged suits
in the colors of mission
any of those ghosts
will do, so long they bring me down
back to the earth
and haunt my face
through the misty mirror
before it turns blue
with deep black eyes
and a shiny smile
the one you pretend
whilst the black hole
of your screen glows endlessly.

i’m making an escape
much thanks for a cheap date
my feet are aching
for new grit.

 

Three More Days: a.co/8qmOtnw