hearts do a funny thing
upon departure
though smiling
(because how can one help but
let lips part in
stretching grins to
all you are)
and while we'll close the doors
yet once again
and joy will be
leaving, staying
savoring
and the funny thing
that feels inside
is exploding out
and letting die
all the parts of self
that cling
and
long to sympathize
though we hide ourselves
and we hide eachother
and eachother is hidden
in lives, in silence, in surreal time of
motionless observation
which, unless the winds blow change
and change occurs
wont be heard
(conveyed) but read
and exploding out and pulsating in
i thought it was a heart attack
but you werent driving me
my heart went with you
and you scared it to death around that
first corner.

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