The window is open And moths are clinging to the screen Somewhere there is sleep There is hunger There are lovers And poets crying themselves to dreams. Somewhere there are wheels And skin And the ability to speak. To you To me Your lines are blurring As you drift farther away From me God speed Dear friend.
I run my hands around the edges and feel hazy blue mountains fading into memory
I can’t seem To shake This blurry vision These blurry words Those blurry lines And I can’t seem To close These heavy eyes.