Archivist

i am partial to a shifting psyche

i am hard to find when i give up my act

i find the long way back

i am a lighthouse when the wind blows south

i am open mouth when i go off the track

here’s to the long way back

parallels with my insides

luminol on my black tie

lucid all til the white lie

i’ll buy anything you say

archivist of the meeting

red of wrist and of feeling

i exist just to see it

seems to be all that i crave