In the Limens Between

Default settings are difficult to disrupt, the autopilot nature of being a person

of how to respond or move forward, process, close the eyes and go, no yes or no,

just floating in a stream of not trying to be anybody’s possession,

maybe an indulgence for a taste wafting curiosity, siren songs, and liquid sea salt,

wondering maybe and declination, and who knows and how it goes,

in the remote contraction of fear and tight in that pit of personal history

like a vault of interest and meaningful revelations across whiskey and a drum beat

next to blue eyes, midnights, rock and roll, and losing uptight,

then maybe the current tastes differently with the age of the batch,

the barrel rolled and timing matched to a moment of staring

across a neutral ground of motions and construction sounds;

what do you want; what do you need;

these sunrises counting down to boredom and indifference,

explosions and the decisions that sit with one night after night in an empty pillow to the right

staring up at a white ceiling under that infinite possibility darkness into space

and you say why not now, why not ask questions and laugh,

because we are all afraid and the chances of anything working with anyone are miniscule,

and most people are horrendously incompatible mathematics spread on bedroom table puzzles

of run away so fast or freaking out the thought of personal time taken away and having to explain

what one really wants and risked being summed up by a statement,

encapsulated in a microcosm, backing one’s self into a cul-de-sac of awkward

and penance for ideas one should not question or speak and one does for why like a flare

from that spark of wonder in the heart of the old romantics and questioning what life is

this journey and the power of people gone atomic, nuclear fuel

radiating in a way that melts the hardness commercial life paints on you from the get-go,

you fight noticing or commenting or asking odd questions about knowing or guessing, pondering, and assumption

in the limens between how any one person can infer who another is in these circus acts of perception and

tight-roping for the crowd basic and true step toes in front of one foot hearing nothing up on that wire

but the beat of the universe inside one’s self emanating feeling like this is why I am here

to take chances and be in this, bear this energy like a peeled chest cavity blasting light

in routine actions of presence of participating, noticing, and creating with the vulnerability

of a human heart and body capable of plummeting off this sky wire with the bonfires below

blazing about what it means to be noticed or to notice another human being

stating I think I see you, rays of you and maybe that is where my words will truncate

in that chalky talk of trying to compliment someone post declination

To offer speech like oil slick pouring onto one’s feet trying not to