it ticks on over [from 11.59]
and i’m a day ahead.
and i lay awake not blinking,
tired eyes keep me from sleeping, in some strange way
because it’s you
and i smelled you today
in the wind as i passed by people walking, while i was on my bike, on a path with so much likeness to the one in my old home away from home. and like all the others i rode
and rode alone.
and still i think of all that riding and all that coasting and all that being so very much alone.
and the sun played tricks through the shadows and the leaves
and my eyes could only focus in the shadiness and dark.
i smelled marijuana and i smelled pru and i smelled plants that smelled like hawaii. and then i smelled you, just as i was wishing that i would [and wondering if i’d remember how.]
maybe memory made it so.