i watch the storm from the pier, with a toe in the water.

i'm beginning to feel like wire...copper wire. strung all throughout a home in attempt to keep things together. everything seems right upon first glance towards the walls, but upon double take you notice that copper wiring is hanging out of holes created by petite insects. insects that thrive off of my shield. the copper wire remembers to show its true color as its last source of defense is eaten away at by the only thing that keeps it going strong after the termites, the wall, and my wiring have disintegrated into their mother and keeper, earth. and as i watch it all come undone, i have a great respect for the words that have created this mess. some of the words i sing, and some of them i speak. but somehow, none of them in any certain kind of combination or dosage does for me, what you did. still though, i try over and over again. i spend hours on end rewriting, rewiring, arranging, composing, deconstructing, decomposing, and constructing all of my heads little trinkets. and as they pour out of my mouth and begin to take shape on lined paper, they start to resemble love sick thoughts. those that scream in a valiant effort, struggling to stay alive... never becoming quite what was hoped for. amidst this passing introspection, the bells on bikes chime as they float gracefully past my summer and winter home. and all these sounds and visions of a summer wasted worrying and being separated are hoisted by pulleys into my line of sight. flying from Minneapolis International with caffeine in one hand and a heart in the other. a few quiet hours after spending 7 days in front of silicon dioxide. viewing lightning strike the lake i sat  on. as God's hope of creating life once more flourishes in the murk depths of a place where boats cruise the surface and children splash in their wake... so in an attempt to release it all into some grotesque concoction only someone insane could dream, i try to shut my eyes. but i am not great. i cannot stretch out my hand desperately toward your green lit dock... but to her dock... both of my arms outstretched welcoming in anything they can be it sunshine or sorrow. Love or Death. these arms turn into fingers down the line. and these fingers condone misery and happiness all at the same time. Unknowingly we board a giant metal bird mere hours apart from each other both ways. Unknowingly we arrive in Minnesota and leave for Wisconsin. Unknowingly... we are caught up in the same storm. it's at this moment, i wonder how long our storm will continue on. how long will we flash lightning and boom thunder? how much longer will the two of us smell like wet cement? to no avail however. my questions are sadly greeted with weary eyes. i drift off in vain as the conscious realm of reality dissipates at an alarmingly consuming rate. and soon enough we all become nothing more than the blur of a world the sleeper sees as she or he lies down to do what he or she does best. neither of us will ever be sure how long we will go on. from rhapsodies to smoke stacks to speeches of exploding stars and far away nebulas.