I tell you these things
that burn inbetween the planks
but, more often than not,
I don't believe them.
Falling into those minute spaces
lost underneath me,
settling, tucking into the poured slab,
the quake of our bodies
cut short by melodies
I see yesterday.
I scavenge for keys.
Another gentle minor third
slips itself into another yesterday.
The strings of my hands twinge.
Where are we now?
Children half our age
drape our skin,
in the space between yesterday and today
thinking, of something to be done.
This is very promising, Billy. I would definitely spend some time with this one. Use some of your expansion strategies from the book, but also ask yourself who is speaking? What is the context? Where are we?
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