i am supposed to pretend
there are many things on my mind,
critical to think about in this here moment,
and i should give these illusory things
allow them the proper proportions
they would acquire on a normal day
spent running through my mind
instead of you.
think of seahorses and shootings stars.
think of crooked elbows
on the definitely not tired branches of godfather
eucalyptus trees collapsing.
think of the music that makes
(until it stops)
except you. fuck
this will never work.