---

Look at these skies--
maybe this is what we deserve.
Maybe you are
what my mistakes will serve.

My feet are hugged by the matter
of my old, old home,
of my old door, of my new life,
of this chaotic dome.

They keep me away from you.
Isn't that a thing you'll do, too?

I kept hoping that
in this short span of ticktocks,
you won't push me aside
by the moves of your clocks.

Stealthy glances I give you
every single dance gives me power.
It gives me a sneaky scenery
of my dreams' blossoming flowers.

I don't genuinely see why
you can't see right through me
when all the time,
I see you under the bed of the sea.

Down there, I dive again--
where I get darkest and deepest words.
Lovely, it is, in my eyes,
to see how we are what friendship herds.

I reckon you won't be surprised
if I now say that I never despised

that you bother my 7 AMs
the good way.

I've been looking for your presence
in worried days.
Gorgeous, man, this day is gorgeous
in wicked ways.

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