LXIX.

there’s a man in new york who looks older than he is
don’t catch his eyes
or you’ll find yourself lost in a sea of worlds

foreshadowing
palm trees at the night pool
the shadows and streetlamps that you are
i wander through fields and find the flowers of your heart
business cards and coffee shops
night terrors on the sand
chasing the smell of a home you’ve never had
dancing to the swelling of your soul
spinning through a pulsing crowd
wandering through places of the past

like i said, don’t meet eyes with this man.
you’ll know him when you see him
the one who bleeds light
limping with pain and dreams
who looks dashing in pastels and glasses
with a skeleton from california
and veins from the andromeda

as your glass reflection drifts over mountains
i find ways to see you
without being seen.