about face makes me wonder and in this case there is no thunder a bit of grace in our plunder

breathing
throwing punches and running
treble and high n treble n high
i dont know what it means
to run away
breathing breathing
for reps
but its gone
hard n for keeps

n water lapping
the recessing wandering waters
through the town streets n windows n doors
a tsunami rushed n rised
the stories ah the stooooreeeeees
of how everything happened and went down
n such details growing likes some new poplar trees
with the info traveling by specific name
of townspeople all related somehow
even if by childrens play partners
n how it goes how it travels how the things run through the stuff
the specifics importants escape the
whispers n the tales try and end
with shhhhhh silent verdicts
n the minds of the involved
n the hands of the teller
at the feet of the bruised
because the no choices
is no choices
n questions are not answered
when questions is 'where did this water go?'
answered with 'oh shit, there it is'
n leaves piles of destruction
n it runs away
back to the ocean
stacks of debreeeeee from d neighbors yrd
and holes with room for the cold cold air
to surround the cold cold
careful and quiet
black pictured
dark lit
room shivers
shhhhh