you can come in through the window.

i wasn't aware i had one, but apparently

there are things i wasn't aware of.

sorry if the floor is cold, possibly damp.

it's where i live though & can be a lovely place

when it's not alone.

take off your shoes, we can dance or stare or shoot out the stars.

i'll stand on my head to watch you rise

because upside down you stand up so right.

what is your name?

i call you by title & close my eyes & recite history,

but what is your name?

i bought a new typing machine.

to record the conversations of our souls.

upon second thought though, i'm afraid that might only

weaken the thread & break the line planted in the air.

so no, i suppose i'll just use it to write letters

of the things we ought to say on the outside.

keep the inside, in our sides

& the fingers lose, free of death.

you shine in your sleep.

did you know that?

i watched you tonight, & you kept me awake

searching for the forgotten switch when all the while,

it was your face.

i don't mind.

it's petty to fret about lost sleep over such a miracle.

take care.

the window is always cracked, now that i know

where it is.

you're on your way somewhere & it's stunning to watch you go.

keep the rocks out of your bag.

weight like that will only make you crack...again.

don't forget to come back from time to time.

i want to hear the stories you are writing.