some times i just want to sit quietly, pretending to be deep in thought, at a corner coffee shop, sniffing the aroma of morning dark roast brewing, dewp dewp, overfilling the cup plated on a chipped saucer – careful not to cut the u’s of your hands, the hallow spaces where another’s fingers may fit. someone may push the door open and the bronze, once golden and shiny, bell – been through the ages, seen all the wonders, all the miracles, and all the tragedies – would ring. i would still be humped over in my corner, basking as the white of the fish turned over, sizzling.

and it is then when i hear no sounds, and i disappear into a gust of wind, slipping through the cracks, sneaking my way into people’s conversations, torching the passion on their lips, and with a sweep of flight i lift up the edge of her skirt and the tip of his hat. and i melt into a puddle of water, a thousand drops of tears formed at the break of her heart, the cracks she duct taped together, the scratches she carefully covered, and the old tattoos of his name forever buried on the dark side of the moon.

and i curve and swivel, i loop around and about. i dot the i’s and cross the t’s. i dance on the pages and pages of love he writes to her. i am the words of apology that he speaks to her, softly, whispering sweet sweet songs in her ears.

and i die. i burn, in the torches i have set up, in the flames and fire i have ignited. and i whimper. i whimper and sneak my way back, slipping through the cracks and back to where the white of the fish tossed, sizzling.