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February 28, 2013 by Wayne.

(let’s live like we’ll only ever be united in our impermanence)

and you reached out as if to say: no
the only line between self-indulgence and worth is delusion

i was about to tell you what we should do next
but you lay across my chest, mouthing the words: once,
i was a man – but now i am everywhere, scattered and woven in
now i am more than plans and fears and secrets locked by quiet lips
and you should leave me alone, not dream of the dead
we are everything – so what?
let our necks rest on floating scenes we settled into years ago
leave our pints of cider and whiskey in plastic cups
voice machines and notebooks, and all the reasons to stay

as if we were wrong to be dogmatic.
Who would say such a thing!
We had conviction, we had all but the sensuality of the thought, the first quiet drink in a bar, drawing from Chandler and the enemies of truth- but it seems I misspoke, but it seems to speak would no longer do justice to the meaning of the word, no longer a shared understanding but a journal of semantics, but you already knew this,
you:

the pause between two notes, the breath between belts
the dissonant background chord
smoothing across your nape and the small of your back
defining the contours of belief
never appeasing the postprandial worshipping
a self-serving invective spilling from obsequious lips
What an awful thing!

But live long enough and you’ll see it too.
I mean, shit, there’s no poetry here, only conventions and lost vocabularies and a paucity of depth because we got stuck in your fucking definition of freedom – you know it, and I know it, and it’s enough that we exist.

And so he set on the journey of discovery, though he feared what he would find.

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