It's 10:15 on a Sunday night in Wayne Pennsylvania. A close friend of mine recently turned 50. We bought fruit, wood, wine and soup. We had an satisfying meal on the water in Philadelphia. We watched "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly." He was surprised I didn't cry. We ate popcorn and drank cinnamon spiced tea. He made a fire and I pet the pure breed golden dog. He's playing guitar, he misses notes but stays in time. There's 4 empty bedrooms here on a daily basis.
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep;
When in the morning light I wake,
Teach me the path of love to take.
(The moments) I watch you from morning to the early hours of the next, they're the ones I'm imagining.
Sun rises; sometimes we get to see it come and go.
The memories before I met you have turned into burnt ash. I can't find them.
I imagine you laughing, I see you walking from behind, I prefer when you walk in front of me.
I want to be in Berlin. I want to be in Zurich, I am looking forward to coming home.
I follow your sleeping patterns from across the ocean, you still medicate my ill sleep patterns from afar.
I can't place the individuals in my life. There are none, groups of people, many. They come and go. A new house a new hostel a new hotel room every night. I enjoy our mornings, our collections, conversations, thoughts. You're no longer an idea or a placement in my life. I require nothing but you.