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I’m sat on the window ledge
waiting for another hit
of reality to kick in,
waiting for it to bring
those promises of a future,
carved out
of carelessness.
Take my hand
let us run along side the road
I’ll swap places with you and follow the edge of the car
spring from tree
to branch,
so long as I can
keep on moving,
pacing on breathlessness
and turning out
words like they were
printed on a reel of
endless fabric.
Let me dress you in
the history of being,
encase you in
the moment of acceptance
that pauses everything.
There’s a history
that you belonged too
it consists of pink jumpers
and a concentration on novels
with underlined sentences
that you scored over and over
until you turned it over
and started a new flow
of oxygen, streams that stumble
only from impatience.
Keep pace with me
as we fall,
today the scenery
changes quicker than time.
We will blend them together
for a new taste of reality.