9 and 3

Ain’t it great there ain’t no universal tastes
While we all talk of love like a language
Here I am speechless, my breath so bated
Turns out we have not a single thing in common
And I'm onto your schemes
You've been showing up every single night in my dreams

So you're moving on without me
I always loved the way you'd run
Holding my hand we traveled the whole wide world
But the moment I stopped to catch my breath in the sun
You became of a shadow of yourself

And every now and then I find myself up on the edge of you
Scratching at colors by a genius made a masterpiece
So long as we're searching for imperfect words to counter it
Let's let this feeling be a poison for our enemies

I never wanted to
Betray or hate or chain you
I never meant to
Hurt you at all

I never intended
The way this ended
But good intentions
Have paved my whole way down

LP

my life's become not unlike the space

between the needle and the groove

the air that lingers there between the stab

and the utter urge to move

spinning round without a sound

i exist betwixt to disappear

that i may cease and then release

some magic for your ear

some trap or trick that you might pick

by which to dance and jive

and there between awake and dreams

is where i keep you alive

9 and 2

I imagine it's cold where you are, with your words like the sun through a car window in the back seat some Sunday afternoon.

You compensate with conversation for an environment of ennui and dilute your simulation of the forecast reality.

Silence on the other line is an invitation, I wish wildly.

Calling all cars, we've a collision on the information super highway.

Let's pretend we're kids and then say you and I just met; except we didn't meet as children so let's do it all again.

Rocks in nature are your friends and line all your bedroom walls  like stoic guests waiting for an invitation to begin devouring your style.

If I could guess your favorite color, I'd have to stop and think.

I am the architect of linaments, at least until your stitches took.