silver lining

kids in sweatshirts waiting in line because there's nothing better to do.
boys holding girls like a treasure.
thin wisps of hair are blowing in the breeze.
cigarettes are burning in careless hands,
the lines are moving slowly
and money flows through hands like water.
another day passing without merit
breaking like waves.

conversations with the wind

and i was walking.
she came to me, took my hands
into her brassy cold hands
her hair was flowing into the trees
(that reached for me
with their own hands)
and i was not afraid.

and i was singing.
the ethereal dancers clouded my mind,
my mind whispering all the while
which has become an open book
(which may be flipped through
just as easily as a book)
the velvet cutian draws to a close.

and i was watching.
when her unhindered beauty stole my breath
and i, like a child, blinded by her beauty became
because it was unlike any other beauty i had seen
(and i have seen many beauties,
i promise you that)
i lingered on her grace.

and i was lying.
the grass grew blade by blade to hide me
green shoots of grass legthened by the moment
to swallow my existence into itself
(grass is capable of
concealing many things)
and i wished it all wasn't so meaningless.