brothers and sisters

sweat is thicker than water.

nostalgia

afternoon sun
still feels the way it always did

dampering eyes
warming the touch

setting the day into
smooth
easy
languid
steps
sitting
stillness

aspirations washed along
with the currents of light

resurfacing downstream
rearing heads
in the calm flow of evening
also just the same as they always were

always promise
and mights
and maybes

under the blanket of
cool
dark
quiet
comes possiblity
potential
or even nothing at all

but for now
a moment

golden
shimmering
sun

and the feeling
of forgotten memories
and old friends
under another sky
a different day
in the desert
in the park
in the city
on the river
in the houses
on the rooftops
at the shore

a million miles
a million miles

all came here today
on the boughs of the breeze
and the light seeping in.

i used the word fuck at least once.

slithering in with
the marina rats.

hunkered into the dank,
shallow,
must and mold,
and the conversation
is the veil
under which
the coldest
the oldest
silence
is
buried.

words can only alleviate the space for so long.

someday we will have to get rid of the space, and fill it with the feeling that is missing when we all shut the fuck up.

until then,
job
flight
town
birthday
food
music
tattoos
bands
books
art
jokes
family
clothes
cars
and
fucking.

thank god that at least one good thing made the list.