valentine

these old times




all those stores all those rollup gates
under red green and white slapped-on signage
we took so much for granted all those years!
we were nothing special nothing was
it was every second of it special
the time empty of second looks of considerations
no looking back yet either
as it should be as it should be now
trust the crowded heart the metaphor muscle
the never-beginning kiss longing leaves behind the never-
ending smile and wish for a right now
meaning more than anything before either in absence
or presence can't do anything else but
love nothing special the pediments remain
the wrinkles and rankles and runckles just words
the edifice suffices these adjoining doors
open to joy our home is where we are
can't see it climb those hills will chills
and kiss me again in the ghetto of Getty
the Hill of Park the
Yo of So



~



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