With friends



I wonder where all of this laughter will go
i know what materials make a man or woman, and the
last pay check was obliterated heavy;
not so heavy that
i could not spend it on seeing friends, more a 180˚
or ∞
obliteration, and we spoke without skin
we also spoke of what was happening, to us, and then
there was real convo, and then- – we knew how to open
good books, and there was a damn beat dying, away, that drum
was forgotten, perhaps we were only burying it,
but certainly
there was no drum, and there was even the kiss of chaos
gone, there
was something much much stranger
there were just people
and talking.


One thought on “With friends

  1. Pingback: Back to the fields with me lassy | Kerosene Chronicle

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