perhaps you should come back
and we could wait

i have been my shadow
for too long. limbs of mangled
years
stem into the maps of places
we'd never get to see
and pierced through the
people we'd never get to
be

over the fence, courtney
times her life in cigarettes
and counts the future
with small fingers palming
money from slaving days-
people with too much life
always given too little
tragic storylines,
the girl in the unknown
rooms with unknown
men, dirty money with
which she could
reclaim te sea

but who am i to tell
you,
i am lost too.
time has only skinned
me from pressing memories

and collected all our sighs
to smash like a fist
our sky blue hopes
again and
again.