last night in a manic imagining
based on the night’s before
bottom of the staircase counterpoint
i teased a future enemy agent
by showing a shyness friend
an acting of communicating desire
it was just a happy mania
as long lived as the wind spends
blowing strewn paper back onto the table
the counteraction is gripping my happiness now
a ressurection of an unintended and much believed lie
by her who caused this insanity
by her confessed selfishness carelessness
her at the time distress
i think i want to break that grip
and allow the mania
a few more days of play
it’s a dry wind glorious
purely because it comes from a different direction
it carries the warm blue south