Bring me this smell

in the morning of seasons

when it's hard to exit

the membrane

where I get stuck all the time

I roll under these lines

And in a different place

there are stories hanging on 'em

laundry, music, street lights

Or not a single message in years

Look at them lines

perches of life

things I crop out of photos

Dove out of a dream

for a gulp of needed air

Can't find my way back in

Those lips on hold forever

It was a messy

bloody, wet

precedent to things

that should never

be

said to me

Back to happiness

 Showered with gifts

company & music

How will I go now

just holding a memory

in my hands