Tomorrow is not a day I dread.
I wish for clearance in my brain. My head has more clarity than Baltic pearls.
She talks.
She imparts a wisdom words written only cheapen, but alone
I know she steers an invisible ship towards white sandy beaches and peace among pastures,
Green or placid.
She was raised among speeches. Words brazened upon her alabaster breast.
She rose to the test, yet
She rose upon reaches.
Born swimming without beaches, she felt truth and beseeched.
Nature reaches to the tops
Of tall trees. Beeches.
Beeches.
The great fat elders.
If their limbs had eyes,
Their eyes would speak of change.
Slow,
Slow,
Change.
And those that brag on scars put on you will be forgotten.
Jim loves Jane.
Will be forever nothing…
Yet, forever something.
The bark bends and
Curdles like old milk
Forgotten in the fridge.
The letters sear themselves
Into my mine
Like a hot iron
Red with glow, red with well
You know how those romances end.
I didn’t dread the day
I ran upon the friends, men,
The women I’ve tied myself
To but when I’m here.
You’re gold in my mouth
Cold Coffee Chronicles 
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