Down in the Nile Delta.

when the soul weakens
and balances its solitude on your toes
when it bathes heavy in the pit of your warm bowel
slopped there
to fester
my body will travel
across dusted plains in a rage full heat
uttering words that should not have been and could have been and would have been
if it was not
for the circumstance

the dance of ideas inside other ideas

i had to leave

when there was a craving of the interlocking of our lives
still seeking the purpose
with its own inhumane purpose
here
there is the weight of the world on the shoulders of an older soul
no longer as fun
i am sorry for that
and it is as if forgotten
but it has been resting
on the softs of your toes
in the warm of your bowel
and i think of you

from time
to time
as time
blows on