latenight garlic crushin’

thyme, pomegranate, mint

quick-sear the lamb chops

browned butter drips

sippin’ rosè from a mason jar

smoke drifts out the shattered window

said she’ll fix it tomorrow 

said he wasn’t hungry but

the bones shine clean

the pendulums swinging low 

now I can catch it with one hand

and wrap my legs around the 

clock parts of the machinum of time 

and make it shudder in its 

slow, determined patterns 

ride the wave of passing moments 

in my turquoise jeans and Wu-Tang sweater

sparkin’ a space monkey spliff 

makes me think that maybe 

when we die we’re just waking up

from a dream 

from a matrix of fresh bread, soft puppies, merry-go-rounds, alien movies, bicycles, thunderstorms, green tea ice cream, sandy beaches, butterflies, narwhals, quilts, kisses, knee scrapes, matchbooks, quails and tents in the forest 

and then it’s something else entirely 


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