The truth hits her
this nightfall time
hands in pockets
She see its mouth saying words that
film directors
understand
the love story
in kindred heads the one that hurts
as blind dunces
miss what they miss
her pre/tensions
locking her voice stop time racing
to the goodbyes
the blur of eyes
as she travels
home bitter home her pretentions
to routine means
when shocks come
statutes fade out
statues shift in distrust is stone
about herself
an architect
understands
when she wants to pre-tense her soul
to strengthen it
give it a chance
to be ready
She is ready this dusk wins her
the red light speaks
the world feels wise
and caffeine soaked
her heart floats in new solutions
It is melting
open-handed
and she can see
solids mopping up free moistures
the ground is dry
She wants to grasp
the blushing sky
by all its hands and say thankyou