dinner under a loud tree, those angry birds, you and me. it's not high noon but low twilight, dusk invoked. we skirt the fringes, avoid the issues, the cosmic dance of vishnu, i direct you, you counter direct, i conceded and you receded, we are slightly out of whack, we need a chiropractic adjustment on out auras, your looking like you stepped out from a miami backdrop, i'm very stoned and some what ravaged by lack of sleep. but i've taken the dragon and looked it in the eye, i do know what to do, what to say, it's simple now, it's really our last chance, so i have no choice.
we go to the place we always went, we eat something from the past and we skimp around talking about some thing other than wheat we should and then we launch into it, and i say it. the things i couldn't. that bit actually felt good, i was on the cusp, almost there, like a flower opening up, in bloom until it slammed shut. i say my words and then you begin the dissection, blood and guts spilling out all over the table, yeah i can't deny my own processes and they may not be fair to you but they are the best i got right now, i'm sorry. you were very gracious and kind that night.