just as the sand made everything.

the grandmother's council.

waste the day so idly.

turn the world around.

on my fourth freeze pop of the day...

everything is stolen or borrowed.

what a life i lead when the sun comes up.

"all changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another." - anatole france.

i slept through july.

and one minute before it turns 11 o'clock, the boy disappears down the hill and there goes another goodbye.

and i wonder what became of you.

In the doorway holding every letter that I wrote
in the driveway pulling away putting on your coat
in the ocean washing off my name from your throat
in the morning, in the morning

(repeat song, lately. it won't stop playing in my head.)

you found another way to tell the truth.

i am sitting outside drinking tea and reading old journals and looking at beautiful photographs.. and the night is a warm breeze... and it feels very lovely.

i can't keep up with my thoughts.

this.

and this.

and that.

and this.

and that.

and that.

and this.

and that.

oh yea, and this.