contemplating

i sleep in

buddha dreams.

i breathe

the holy ghost.

my boots

are tired,

age creeps

across my face.

my fingers,

caresses the air.

my friends,

are smiles,

their names

mean less.

i confuse

situations,

destroy them,

or make them,

feel right.

grass grows

between

the stones,

i tumble on.

i’m encouraged,

by my weariness.

and the man

that lifts me,

from the dirt.

it is good,

to be in love,

a long time.

sometimes,

i forget,

how happy

i am.

 

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