Gravity Again

I wrote it down. Did you see it? Behind the 8x10's and the dark empty bottles. Under coffee stains. All the things you said and everything I already knew. I'm caught. In the middle of what I ought to be and what my idle mind betrays of me. And I thought belief, at least once, would make things real. But I'm finding that it takes more. I want interrupted gazes. I want an uncommonly common ground. I want the chuckle of novelty. A moment that's bigger than the conversation. And a smirk of discovery drowned in sincerity. But I'm also desperate for home. So lay me over. For now. Before we have to speak again. And enlighten me because I'm caught in the window again.

Post-graduate dialogue

Great with grand gestures.
But dismiss the details.
You disappear without concern.
Ask only for answers.
 Lose track of time.
And take for granted all your current wonders.
But when all's said and done,
and you decide on what you want,
you'll see that you become what you do.

And the word of the day is

Yes.

In the economy of mercy

I am a poor and begging man.

Sometimes I forget all these things could be gone in a flash.
From words carelessly unspoken. Or in the aftermath of nightmares revisited.
But if we aren't to rely on the changes that have been performed in us,
then what good are they. What purpose do they serve exactly.
There's always something in the way. There's always something getting through.
But it's not me, it's you. And peace is the last thing I find when I'm confused.
But maybe in this economy of mercy, it pays to surrender.

So rain please.
For the stubborn flames
of arrogance are ablaze.
And grace, I beg.
To a time before rational analysis
and systematic thinking
robbed me of a sweet simplicity.

When you feel like letting go

Hold fast,
my dear.
For doubt's grip
is weaker than ours.
And even weaker so
with time.
...