XCIX.

the way they look at me.

the dust on his floor.

leaving.

the reach of art.
sounds that scope so much
the patter of drums, yes,
an arm hanging over the bed
violet michigan

a secret documentary
dancing feet round a chalk circle
light blending night
time is memory is time

tired on the road
to know you and be known by you
sweet rice and chopsticks
coded stories
questions and smiling answers
do you think in pictures or words

you weren't a brother.
you were more than a friend.

neon walks at night
and you wish there was more,
and i wish there was more,
and i wish there was truth,
i've always wished there was truth.

but we were both storytellers —