first
you'll have to tell January to stop crying
and wait his turn like the rest of us
i can rush the days no more
than pebbles can do sign language
and the mortars in my blood stream
are set to detonate at any second
for all we know
this will be our last dialogue
as i struggle to put words to the sound
of animals fighting
you let out a faint moan
and my eyes did summersaults
until they were backwards
looking through the neurons of my hypo-campus
at a breaths distance
psychology is much harder from this close of proximity
a certain amount of distance is required
to truly see our problems
it's why friends give such great advice while
their own life is in disarray
the subtlety of space luminating our blind spots