psychographed telegram

I'm waiting for you
(as if I had
ants in my pants)
to win
imaginary battles
for a daily
changing...

spend time
looking for you
trying to know
where are you
where are
your thought-feet
your mouth-regret

where are you?
where is the ecstasy
that you knew how to reach
that you knew how to hide
that you knew not to know

time passes
glued to your feet
penances
silent on your lips
flames

where will you be
when I'm not
looking for you

p.s. would appreciate
you bringing
your swordfish.


PAR