moleskine ii

travelers dying in her dreams, the last minutes of sunlight
big bulked yellow muscle cars, a beautiful but dry fountain
nature absent for the rest of us, middle sounds for everyone
suffering for the lack of light for the lack of warm
lost boards on the street sudden realizations on rainy days
the possibility of talking to someone, the idea of not liking it
purple accessories on a futile list , small patches of grass for big dogs
photographs taken without notice, old friends with no reasons
memories filled up with music, red sweaters with familiar faces
the sleeping dog in the middle of mayhem, realize that you miss the foreign cells
realize this is a repeated thought, realize this is not a loop of music
write something else ...

alarms of cars activated by fierce drums
the smiling thing about being there and not really being there
the asshole that thinks that being a ghost is good

the red shirt on your thoughts
the fading sun on your senses
the fairy tale that no one told you