I faked out my philosophy professor

somehow I had forgotten that this was our last day living side by side, and that you’d return to the substance of pensive thoughts and late nights. A couple notes in a song that carried me to a place neither of us really inhabited. You know, as it was.

You don’t know, do you? But I promise, we had good moments together. Your presence, and I.

Still more real than what you’ve been to me recently. I blame myself.

I always blame myself.

I try to blame myself.



I an accordion, sour in ways that you can’t taste

taken to watching your tongue move up and down in a half-concocted picture-show that covers hands, legs, eyes, teeth, and all in motion!

(what of your glut;

a beacon always shone there, nurtured like a vine on nights when I saw nothing of you