i lug less
you chug more
you kiss all
i cry never

time waits occasionally for one
to catch up to it
and when one does
a promenade to a new dawn
is brief and fun

your feet are naked
my body is bare
my pockets are empty
but our minds are as clear
as summer

winter

how i've wasted
an entire sunday
staring blankfaced
out've the window to the right

head denting my pillow
quilt heaped
on the laundry-clad double bed

witnessed late daybreak
winked through noon
yawned at the sight
of evening's prematurity

now its all black

see, nothing has changed all day
even to this very moment
as night densifies
it is solely
you
i think about

it is not naivety from which i suffer. it is merely an extreme case of idealism.

speculation

perhaps when you die, your destiny is in fact that which you supposed.

intelligence is knowing that you posess it (or don't for that matter) while in both cases striving for it.

because it eventual,

diligence is genius
is success
is victory.

really...

if you like it, you're worthy