negative nightingales   left roses to lose bloom

                                    looked for nectar elsewhere

                        - or died

                        - doesn’t matter

Today is tiring. Ghosts chase and in this race, the finish is back at the start. Never is the heart left even as it leaps, skips, stays silent through pursuits. Steam rises from former mistakes thawed swift past water stage. Steam ejects from pipes as pistons engage – on vapors, phantoms take comfort.

Stepping stone. Yesterday, today, tomorrow. This is accepted. Maybe one day, the love will be for feet. Until then these hands have work to do, these eyes also and what joins the four. The words, thoughts, images, sensation.  Work. And more work. Let this be relief.