wake up, oh sleeper.
i will name you joy, because it flows from your pores.
you will name me nameless because i am confused.
i will bathe you in summer light, and feed you drops of disagreement .
we will celebrate the lies we’ve read. we practice them daily, we say them before bed.
and as we crawl into our sheets, demons will creep and entice us to follow.
where they come from, i couldn’t tell for i’ll never know. but they whisper to me stories, and smile with gleams of light released onto me. they cover your shadow, you shiver but agree.
tonight has become what i feared it would.
and no amount time nor liquor could change my perception of you and i.
those demons are gone, the the light has taken their place.
you slip out of the comfort of your bed, and follow my lead.
we dance in unison, down the hard wood floor.
creaking as our feet touch what’s beneath.
we will stumble in a faultless grace.
passing by frozen clocks and flightless doves.
and at this peak of time, the frenetic city commits it’s crime.
and we’ll graciously stumble, and find those flightless birds to be as confused as i.
may i be the strings in your dream catcher?
those beads in your hair remind me of summer.
when we drank coffee on the beach, shared a pack of cigarettes and stared at the people passing by, remember?
we created stories for each of them.
i exist with gravity, over your head while you sleep.
watching you deny the invitation to dream.
i catch them with my feathers.
my strings absorb each scene.
i was laying on that beach last night, you know.
i stared at people walking by.
they stared back.
i created a story for them.
and they did the same for me.
for a minute, i thought i was dreaming.
you were next to me, i lit you a smoke.
you took a sip of coffee.
we lived in black and white.
and our lack of color replaced your dreaming, and i just watched you.
i thought of a way to get closer to you.
it didn’t work out, so my mind asked yours on a date.
it said yes, and they thought together.
they did what minds did.
and eventually they fell asleep.
and taunted themselves with silly dreams.
and i was there to catch them
existing with gravity.
above our heads.
on the beach.
It’s interesting that a simple, “How can I take your order, sir?” can completely change one person’s day.
Twenty-four full hours, altered due to a common question.
Yet, what is also interesting is how appearance seems to affect the listener far more than anyone expected.
If a lower class black man asked the middle class business man what he’d like in his coffee, the business man could reply with any other answer, followed with any other feeling
or emotion.
But while the business man sips his coffee, and the waiter lights his last cigarette outside the local diner,
they both think
of each other.
Their clearly evident differences.
His pristine tie, and shined shoes.
The ever so modest stature he carries without hesitation, symbolizing everything the waiter hates, yet envies.
Wishes he could be.
But his dirty rag hanging out of his back pocket, old shoes, a gift from a former lover for holiday, and his tired yet alert eyes tracing his mistakes.
Resembling everything the business man looks down upon, yet wonders about constantly.
So what if curiosity wasn’t a present factor.
Would the business man and the waiter be neighbors?
Offering to rake each others lawn during autumns worst.
Feeding pets as the other leaves for vacation.
Because, if you and I weren’t here having our morning tea, skimming the New York Times accompanied by lack of conversation, but perpetual eye contact, then I wouldn’t have been able to see how the business man left the waiter a tip with a note.
The simple words, “Thank you”.
Altering his entire day.
