bandaged energy.

i say 'god', you say 'damn'.

clean lines and closed eyes, the clearing of throats.
abandoned bedding and aimless running, the hint of structure.
everything makes such a racket, especially the wrong kinds of shoes, that it's hard to hear the phone ringing.
the more merchandise we transfer, the shorter the distance becomes. what?

i say 'god', you say 'damn'.

a word from up high, spelled incorrectly, falls flat and withers.
a concealed question, misdirected, is intentionally unheard.
a trivial day and night, uselessly fumbled, leave little trace.
a cigarette, hastily smoked, fills my lungs with glamour. what?

i say 'god', you say 'damn'.

you've got a dizzying number of connections; i'm tethered tight.
you've lived lives of action and movement; my legs are half asleep.
you take it all in stride; i get stuck on every little hiccup.
you are a picture; i cannot stop fingering you. what?

i say 'god', you say 'damn'.