Everytherwise

I place the dial

atop a crown

of frizzy hair.

Watch me spin.

With a soul

too far away

to call.

You cry out. Tug and reel.

It's not that I don't want to come along

It's just- I try to leave the colors

on the horizon

and call it just a sunrise.

But then I always end up

taking them with me.

I try and and usher forth

that more solid, present

sense of self.

For you?

I'm not sure.

I don't know.

The sentence of our existences: I do not know.

How to not frustrate

by frowning while hanging

up my fool's jacket -bangles

bobbles and all- and start acting

otherwise. Being otherwise.

Youtherwise. Metherwise. Everytherwise.

Start being what. That?

Wise. Yes.

A soft voice: Maybe...

Aligned with the generation's cadence for a start,

you say, but in a much more boring-er way.

While I lie, brushing off the dustier memories,

with their familiar grooves and smoothed, thumbed edges.

Juicy peaches of thought

Frozen dew drops of time

Ran across by daily tides

but I am the one who will

pick them up. I wish to hold

And examine. Each one.

Each individual

with my sanded fingertips.

Perhaps, I say or think in my head

per the usual dazed response.

My everything just skips a beat.

And someone smiles, from I wonder where.

But all because it was I who placed the dial,

and it will at least be my voice

that sings out of tune.

I am lucky,

though you do not understand

here you come anyways

to just sit

and listen.