i've been keying
in the wrong
passwords? all this time?
the memories i've kept
tied up in a glad handy cinch
sack, that thing you probably
call your mind, yeah that thing,
it's funny what you find at
the bottom. at the bottom of the
patch of leaves you raked months
ago and there they sit. browns and
dull yellows. and at the bottom,
moist funk. waiting... for the you
to dive into and release the
air and damp. as the early
morning approaches and creeps.
the yes to the no
the right to the "sort of"
warmth is all that i long for
no matter what no matter what
every picture i see from when
is now digital and hasn't lost it's
glow.
not
one
bit
grimm
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