pakalolo

Smoking a cigarette
at one am
out a motel room window.
The air so thick
my smoke hangs still
for minutes.
An exhalation of my thoughts
dissapearing only slowly
into the country.
Smoking a cigarette
at twelve am
off of a fire escape.
The street so quiet
I can hear bottles breaking
from miles away.
My thoughts rip through downtoan manhattan
on an agitated wind
permeating the consciousness of the city.
Alone in my hotel room
I can hear conversations down the hall.
Alone on the subway
I can hear conversations down the car.
I am a country girl, i am a city girl.
I am everything, i am nothing.
I am smoking my cigarette
and listening to you think.

I live in New York City
And I run with the cars
The colors of the billboards blind my thoughts
The faces of the passersbys shift in and out of focus
Too quickly for me to know if anyone is really there
All these sounds all these lights all these colors
Rushing by, worlds trapped in cars
Worlds trapped behind cheap sunglasses
Worlds trapped in the languages I can hear shouted all at once,
Languages I never want to learn how to speak
Because everything is more beautiful that way.

from earlier this week:

I look at you looking
At someone else.
You ‘re standing alone,
Vulnerable and strong,
And farther than I’ve ever seen you before.
A dent in your hand,
Where my hand should be,
A dent in your lips,
Where my lips should be.
I look at you,
Looking at someone else,
And I think
How beautiful you are
From this far away
You turn and catch my eye
I hold your gaze silently
As I turn on one foot
Slowly
The world spins by
Slowly,
And I walk,
Slowly,
Away from you.