Sketches

1.

Vacant Mind
Dead Air Stare
Space So Spacious
Between Here And There
Not Too Much

I forget

He is tired of the word games, he is tired of it all.
We can watch cartoons and laugh like carefree children.
Or get toasty and chain-smoke, discussing music and life. He might go away and become a monk. There's a monastery in southeast China that accepts white people.
I tell him that they better or I'll kick their asses.
He is pissed about being under appreciated or broke or sex-less.
And suddenly,
I forget how to open up.

Rememory of all

Rememory of all that he taught and now to obscure what long ago should have been spotlighted.
My heart weakens in memory and my breath deepens to prevent collapse.
Amazing how effective the breath.