my hands are tied. i hope they…
this headache is closing in on both sides, all sides, of my head. it’s getting light and i’ve got to wake up, you’ve got to leave. everything’s soft in the early morning, filtering in gently through my half-closed blinds, dropping faintly on your face. you were pretty long distance, and you’re lovelier now.
i’ve lost all sense of perspective in this tiny town. my days are a blur. i couldn’t tell you what i’ve been listening to. i couldn’t tell you if i’m moving fast or slow—i can’t tell. everything around me looks motionless. nothing changes. my room lightens; i wake up. i move through some hours. the sun goes down; i crawl back in my bed and slide under sleep.
and yet the days aren’t stopped, like us. they’re marching on without us, tiptoeing. suddenly, i’m awake, and it’s december, and we’ve crossed state lines and slept under all kinds of moons. nothing’s slowing. we’re going global.
