mind games

one of those mornings when my mind wanders. back to the little coffee shop in longwood. on those high tables where i have laughed, cried, celebrated and mourned. those coffee cups are long-stained. with finger prints of the dead and the living.

one of those days where my impatience is strong. i become fidgety when this happens, and slightly aggressive. and my thoughts are all over the place. cancer children, heart disease and my misty future, bobbing up and down in my cursive imaginations. i just want to know, i scream to my coffee cup. asleep on my table top. it is pale with patches of blood. bloody rims of the past. my carry over from boston. there is this comfort. temporary at the most, in touching my coffee cup. this time is a drag. how slowly it moves. every second that rolls on my digital screens. i await.

one of those hours when i am tired. this ballet of sun shine and my fabric is long. i just want to know... this life. yet who is the messenger of fatalism? this is the alchemy of fate. there is a reciprocity, however. when the golden gold is washed away. the spirit has been paused, for a few minutes. this gentle relapse of negativity.

to give comfort, i dangle a neck tie against the brown of my book shelf. it is crimson with silver polka dots. wraps so gently across my neck. smooth, slick and slender. creased with my momentary clenches. it plays with the wind. and chimes against my breath. there is a closeness. i do not know how. or why.

still breathing. the edge of my lips are set in order. this morning. touched with balm. they tremble, how. the mind games of time. matter-less at thirty. yet scouring, this october. on tissue tops. i just want to go. i just want to know