distractions

while you were gone i cornered the burroughs of my mind carried the felt, kept at harbor while i trailed off
divided sunsets and feelings imposed impartial and imparted
no reassurance, just hope and highs thrown into myself nerves and all bones, fit to break at any given stride
i've seen shine, and all too well but never so reasonable when you're hands away
the moment that strings grow dissonant and ears go untuned and we only hear what our heads want us to
this is what it's like to stop. as the moment continues to breathe
i could muster words like trembling lips; sparse, literal and unequivocally forward, as we write our lives like foreign roads, feverishly curious and fragmented.
there is no unison, only exchange, excess and underwhelm. should days become mundane, and at week's end our galas find resolve, i welcome the chimes of another found chord, lost unto its own.