#.021

over the courses of day

i fluctuate and sway like a drunkard

over trite comparisons of your intoxicating being.

at noon, i have resolved to knock down your door

demanding recompense and answers.

mid morning, i state you are too warm, too sharp

and deserving of brown

sweet

doe eyes; spaghetti hair

and fuller figures.

early evening, when my tangent thoughts

run most swiftly towards conclusions.

late evening,  like cracks in concrete

like caulk in tiles

like trails of birds flocking toward southern refuge.