notebooks from may found in june #1

tick tock clock ticks
seconds then mintues then halves then hours.
ours.
i know. you know. we know.
we know.

this is an excuse to keep going there
seven letters at a time.
i wish that we could use other excuses as
the same ones become so transparent
when used over and over and over again.
over.
over again.

hot shots and bike rides. gold charms
because you are charming and dont
like silver.

tick tock clock ticks.
i wait and you dont even care.
or you do and are better at keeping
the mask on without the makeup ever
smearing when you sweat.
dont let your guard down.

old friends. old wounds.
the sutures becoming my
future and reopen
on my sleeve where i used to
wear my heart.

tick tock clock ticks and
i twist a green tea al green
mix tape as music helps
ease the mind and bring on
sleep where some find peace
and others perversions which
very well might be peace for those
who breathe deep and sensual in those
seconds before a slumber that lasts hours
but seems to last days.

perceive. grieve for dead relatives
when all is relative and our playoff
dreams are crushed with two silly
mistakes in the last minutes of
a well fought match.

matches with their sulfur smell
seduce my dulled senses and make
me want to feel what you feel.

tick tock clocks tick..