lines and limitations,
dreaming of whens,
where i was some other me
and there was a you that had
a face and a purpose
an understanding of the blank wall
of the far universe.
unclear now,
dreams have become the only currency
in this hell where i am the now other
as opposed to the him
i used to be.
a large world,
small feet step forever
getting nowhere in particular.
still,
the sun on the horizon
gives shimmery suggestion to the possibility
of some she that has been
slippery and elusive,
that has gone far and wide
to be away,
wherever away my locate itself
at any given time,
and perchance,
one might find a more fitting location
to place the hell they enjoy,
if only there was companionship
in the burning,
alas...
lines,
limitations,
and imagination is the keyless cell
that holds all future versions
of a me that remembers
how to smile...