Future's Past

I cast the line
on the day I built
the memory that baits me


To sit in sun
in spring warm dust
like music notes surrounds me


For this supreme love
bobbing with these nibbles
follows


Dictation of time
pulls more than four seasons
in fine detail
increments so seeming resolute and redundant
never the same particulate corpuscles of memory


I swallowed the hook
digested all fallacy
knowing what baits me


Singing in unison
a sarcastic tone
I am never alone
for these memories
are stored and beckon Angels.

Mine

Sometimes: you just have to hide.
Sometimes: this is what you keep in mind.
Sometimes.

Sometimes: this is what you hold inside.
Sometimes: you take a look and smile.
Sometimes.

And this is mine,
and this is mine,
and this is mine:
Everytime.

Get It?

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