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Dye the Days [Only Love]

On a midway aspiring to be the oil or gravel between the legs of balance,
I loved the man that the king would be; but each face surfaces as a new language.
There’s never a claim to understand them, just a wager of neon and datura,
a tongue on the line, the same lines you draw with eyes “all out of love for you.”

...I dye the days blue for you.

A radar screen every mile on Route 50 makes you slow it and collect the landscape,
the life deal and its electric affectation, and how much you exaggerate. 
I cheer for only the arrows thinking of Neruda & the negligible contents of food & homes spent.
Half a rockstar, I spoil myself with the wind that listens for the rain so it may write again.

We only love just like we work:
reluctantly and in shifts.
I want to have to speak up over a river’s world 
to tell you we’ve got something better than it.

And I, I dye the days for who you are,
but my eyes could not change the weather of your heart.

Home at 9, I’ve been awake 20 hours, a wonderlust noose of my arms to help you forget
that clarity comes with absence; and we’re dilated beyond possibility or re-curation of it
by traveling eyes or the repair of tilting.  All we can lose is what we sweat off.
When we’re done being weak, you stay with me, but I spoiled myself and gotta head off

...I dye the nights red for you.

I only swim just like I drown;
My speed won’t let your love down.
But you say “I gotta break above the waves
like I haven’t died in days.”

All in search of public lips,
Enlightenment kiss,
Negation of fatigue through motion,
And engendering of emotions,
I’m day to day,
Room to room:
Floors that have been spit on,
Beds slept in,
Windows cried in.

I only defy gravity just like I make dinner:
expecting more than I started out with.
I only love just like I drown,
I only love just like I drown.
My speed won’t let you down:
I dye the days oil and gravel for you.



Fate