stalemate (East Vancouver; March 2013)

by totalcontrivance

We are inside of a little white matchbox with great high ceilings

High enough for all your thoughts,

Room enough to grow

And I’ve got growing to do

With you

I look around

Half-filled room

Cold on concrete floors

Swimming with half-formed hopes

Try to look in eyes, not lock eyes,

No eyes to lock,

The only eyes are yours and

Right now they are behind me

Near the back of my head

Seeing what I see and seeing me

In front there is dark

Acid wash and children

With dirt on noses

Cigarette smoke clouds

Cloud vision

Make cloudy

Tired

Let’s go home

Return to bridged abyss

Where we don’t have to do this

Looking out

Over war

Anymore.

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