Act as though—
And a far cry from.
What's closure?
All clever answers are guilt or lies.
And all I know is why
I love you
And my confidence in myths, and how a ritual outsmarts even its participants, especially its participants, and how James Baldwin might have felt in Paris, and how Richard Wright might have felt in Paris, and how Josephine might of felt in Paris, and how Bud Powell might have felt in Paris, and how Dexter Gordon might have felt in Paris, gazing at that quiet/tiger in the glass, and when they got high and the stripes made a chant that chased even themselves away.
What I'm trying to say is. And silence is a confession too. And the sun is turning blue as steeple copper. And that's green and vain of you, son. But the song I mean. The song keeps getting better.
