&

Newness & air.

Here & there.

Hurt & care.

Blind & staring...

So we all die in life

and live in death,

I alone untie my bonds

with hands extended

or slapped away.

With each yesterday

comes a tomorrow,

yet it is today that may 

resolve nothing nor everything,

but a smidgeon of what is real. 

On the birthday of my world,

I cut my dreaming in half,

and continue to contemplate

what I have done 

and left undone. 

I bang my ankles

with more yesses 

and heal my hankering

with more no’s 

than the future has hissing.

Like a choking ouroboros,

I refill myself with myself,

pouring blues for blues,

newness for newness,

and the caring air that is not there.

If you have an eye for vengeance,

you’ll only prove nothing

is out to get you, but you,

and by the time the song ends,

all you will have is nothing to lose.

So win

again

and again

and again

&…