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but she promised this all to me
flanders fields
& cobblestones
the neverending roadtrip of the soul
or
at least
neverending epiphany;
yet
a blindsided uppercut to the chin
you think it's illusion
. . .smell the salt,
yet
this is still only the first round
the welts are manageable
she promised the summer's breeze
this just a question unanswered
the castration of logic
we get the idea
the sun will return
the pain will subside
this
just one step of the journey
this
just one stop on metro-north
this
just
this.
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