quiet streets traffic lights changing above me
stoic, omnipotent
primary & secondary colored
ideas I can't reach
sensitivity a stone in my pocket
rolodex of every radio station
drafting a missive
solely from strung together
phrases found on clothing tags
tip of my tongue how
a mourning dove's song
always means both
deep empty
and big possible
words words words
words tripping
on the silver edges of time
