I'm half way to drunk , forgive me.

the sheets restrained me from leaving, but allowed me to dance in them,
to work up a sweat in them, at least
i kept calling a name that started with a,
i kept calling a name that started with t,
i kept calling a name, their name
perhaps the name really started with a snort, a drink?
perhaps that's all we ever really know about a person
their name, but enough about logistics, this is about war, and logic is fleeting in a time of gunfire
i'm talking about my battle with sleep, an hour after the lids finally cap off the day
the sun warms my kicking feet, and reminds me of my time spent south
wake up! the entire world is rolling out a fucking carpet, the traffic is beating the street
wake up! if you move your legs raw the parallels of the universe will be revealed
his face, your face, the dent in the side of the crack of that car that when it crashed
did that
to her face
wake up!
and i hold the sun by the cheeks and whisper "if I could multiply, i'd show you beauty, but
we've been cautioned to wear the skin of a pear, dilate pupils to red, 
and to hibernate until the wolves break in, only then do our lips part the mansion doors, 
and make the rich feel poor, this is war"

((()))

Oh, let's talk about my mother for a little bit
let's talk about the delicate age of her hands, how hard they look, like lace they feel
let's talk about the contrast of that statement and her voice, like a dagger, even the sweetest sounds

Or maybe the summer time now, maybe the grass that hurts in contrast to the sun.