i have imaginary conversations
with various parts of myself.
there is a backlog in my appointment book.
some i push to the side
but i always find room for johnnie.
we walk all over the city
people watch
paint possible stories of what we see.
alone in a room
visions of blue smoke haunt me
these memories go hand in hand
but i had to kill one before it killed me.
life choices.
the warmth burns my chest
melodies and harmonies sink into one another.
i stop breathe then start again.
time ticks
the session closes to an end
until the next time i push myself to explore myself.
a quarter glass turns into an empty glass
this is how two becomes one.
heat radiates through the crushed sand
while i play with its naked body
i wonder where my friend went.
