I miss
weighted fingertips
pressed firmly
against the base of my neck
that unadulterated ignorance
of accustomed equilibrium
the complexities of simplicity
choking on words
instead of silence
so I looked to you
at you
to get myself back
to an avenue
devoid of gray
where natural never faced neutral
self-stimulating
with the dichotomy of memory
I only cheat myself
but maybe this recession
is misnomer’s
voluntary victim
concealing an intermission
between
years and months and days and decades
manipulations of calculations
futile as Manhattan rain
