Sitting on milk crates
Cigarette in hand, weekend on mind.
Dipping in the explosion of pollen-yellow rays,
I think of strawberries, chocolate fondue, The Gin Palace.

I've felt a certain calmness; found comfort in myopia.
I've left things running; I'll soon catch up.

We'd escaped from saturation
Driving along coastlines.
Battles between right/wrong/helplessness
Levelled out by the horse we both were.
With him there were discretionary words
With me he knew to gently prod, and accepted the ominous release.

I dreamt last night.
Of us running away from strange bad people
You were hurt, and I ran away.
I struggled to wake up
And you called at 0125, voice quivering.

I've seen a certain frailty; tried to maintain openness.
I've let promises bounce off; I'll make up along the way.