florence

it's always the darkest before dawn
the cerulean forest nymph carried on through
with the warm light bulb behind her back
we only know one thing for sure
it looks so free and wild
leaping and flowing seamlessly with nature
so intense with all the radiance that it brings
it isn't safe to ask for anyone's name
around here
so I whisper quietly
it flies around the translucent drapes
they hang on the ceiling
touching and reaching
depicting saints as they extend
their arms to
mortals for healing miracles
each hunger echoes so loudly and yet
though I keep things deep to myself
they hear me too
it stands there first
and motions you to take the leap
though there is nothing
that could stay with it for long

the kiosk means something

as I tell myself, "just start"
my eyes become heavier
and my heart harder to carry
it seems that there isn't anywhere
I can begin

I stroll around
with confetti in my left hand
goals in my right hand
fascination outward
chaos inside

I feel like that newspaper hitting
that tall post that anybody would try and
avoid
but I
I bump into it with conviction
and I let the hard wind hit me
the kiosk is filled with faded words today
things gone and have departed
it's full of old stuff nobody says anymore
but it's still well standing
waiting for a visitor
I hope it's glad that today
it's me

I think about
you and me
we could be mad representations
of geography
we tell ourselves stories and
ignore the media to live in books
sometimes it feels like we're there
but we're really just...here

no, we don't represent geography
we cheat it
we exist in two places
here & there

we're all standing in this world for something
I remember all
but all is only this to me
and that might just be a thought
for a good start