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