after all.

i woke up & didn’t know where i was.

i have been here before.
the door should not be here,
it should be there by the window.
(no, two days later, i remember, it was
always there.)
i found myself again and again
here, in all the perfect moments
but it still ain’t quite right.
the apartment is different, more his.
i think of my own.
i think i remember that towel rack
broken, still on the floor. but that
is impossible.

i knew where i was after all.

mountains.

in the middle of the night
last night we put up a mirror that
had been in the closet
for months, and drank from the
bottle of wine that sat,
already open,
on the top shelf in our fridge
and instead of going
to bed at a reasonable
hour we listened
to the crucifucks and i danced to the
mountain song while he
fought plaster and chased
me down the
hall with his eyes,
and then i met someone
like you,
over and over again

we had run a mile where others walked some fifty feet
and then i met someone like you,

there’s so fucking far to go
there’s so much more i want to know
there’s never fucking time enough
some people think they’ve got it rough

and in her eyes, well i surmised
she’d flown for miles
i took her time and then she said to me,

there’s so fucking far to go
there’s so much more i want to know
there’s never fucking time enough
don’t ever think you’ve got it rough

some people really have it rough
we’d run for miles
while others walked

crucifucks, the mountain song