a name
a place
a perspective so familiar
why give it up?
even if we are here only to be here
that is destiny, my love

In the dark
of cover
under cover in the dark
like a heat seeking missile
I abdicate all rights
(mostly those I don't want to give up).

Hot, light, black of dirty days
lost to a past I can't erase. Like a heat seeking missile,
I don't want to last.

This life a series of breaths,
always short of
long
or otherwise disproportionate to
the actual experience. Why is the
life force so compelling to control?
Or why is it so elusive?