our paths

Spherical accommodation with lace ups, mutter thanks
they drag behind me on the pavement
More mutter stale breath my audience applauds me
I dreamt I didn’t know anything but the cold on my fingers and nose and it kept me sane
I dreamt I didn’t know anything and threads poured out of me, unraveling into dust white
Waking up walking into white dimensions mirrors were handed in front showing alternatives
Mirrors make my conscience itch
Darted off the path, 11th dimension where I met Christ
He works at barns and noble, reads nietzsche and vacuums up paper napkins
Doesn’t try to tell you his story so I told him mine
He didn’t take the mirror either and so here we both are
Told me to tie my shoes my mutter didn’t come
so we kissed lips the same way mouths open with space to smalltalk
I couldn’t take him with me
I lived in the speakers and I couldn’t think for myself common trait among the unheard
Cubicle sound, they had velcro shoes sang talk radio
Dug a hole for my seat with sand and sat by the waving foam refusing to say goodbye, only hello hello
My hair grew long and my sight became biased
Whispered that I deserved it all
A flight of fists and my muscles stood screaming
Running in circles my eyelids dissolved mimicking surprise
I dove
Into the see to sea but I settled into the sand became wrong about myself
Never seeing I was right about spheres
they don’t need laces