this is a test.

empty days.
empty and waiting to be filled.
i know what i have to do.
and never take steps.

no papers to write.
or books to read.
or friends to call...
who are not previously engaged.
and a few weeks until there is structure again to what i do.

you are driving far.
already half way there.
and i long to have an adventure.

but my life is not autonomous.
i do not decide what i do.
i have half responsibilities.
and no fiscal value.
that's what they say.

so i sit here.
i whine and complain.
shower every few days.
and develop an interest in things of no value.

soon i will dance in the rain.
soon i will become something.
how do i prepare for that?
what can i make of the days before?
wishing and wishing i could spend them with you.

it's the summer

notorious for posting late or never.
but in need of something to do.

i'll share here.
better than sharing no where.
better than nothing.

nearly six months since the last.
acoustic sounds of the past echo from the couch beside me.
i have just kissed you good night.
my fingers danced around the tips of yours.
easily swayed by moves that we make,
these wee hours awaken me.

safely through the snow, journey home.
tomorrow s waiting.