it.s one of those days where your fours switch shapes, and you.re not really sure where it came from.

where you.re keeping your eyes open on three hours of sleep, when you.re sitting holding your kness at four thirty in the morning on a deserted pool deck, memorizing the shadow shapes and wanting to dive in.

where the lyrics mirror the images you.ve created, devastated, in. or de. flated.

where you think about poetic allusions and the words to fit the feelings, and then ones that extend.

when it feels real when you.re under the trees, everything sinking in (we agree, warm today). thinking about what is going on in this mind.

today passes into the next day/// and day by day, these little things happen.. pretty soon, everything has changed. (this is nothing new, but worth examining.)

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