dark_uneven_way werewolf the twisting terrain, promises touch, support, and drops off in light, to emptyness, to a gasp, or a quivering, an expectation voided and replaced as suddenly, with hungry lips, with a mouth that talks in another tongue. Full of hushes and sighs, leading me on, taunting me, comforting me, allowing me to rest in my terror, to find safety as i become more and more loss, to surrender my meager self, to the vastness of night, of your night. During the day i walk and say familiar things to familiar faces, or strive to make strange faces familiar, and yet i cannot escape my you, i cannot escape the impatience and anxiety i feel at the sight of so many clear and plain hills, of so many houses and lives dissected in light. I long to be lost, in a world that holds no finishes or traps, a self contained void, a car that is sweltering, that is fogged and hides all but a vague motion, like the prelude to a funhouse swindle. Inside we arch, we turn, gymnastically longing, dramatically sighing and making ourselves known, we see how many ways we can arrange the insides so that from the outside, to the world it seems the same. To us, it is the world that seems the same. It is a memory that haunts me, that informs each meager day, each moment of rest. Were those nights, those passionate kisses that gave new birth to old nerves all a dream? They haunt me. If ever i see you again in that dark uneven way, i will kiss you extensively. I will try to unmask the faceless, i will capture the universe and hold it in my false cage, to find comfort in fear, to imagine the racing of my pulse as if it were the beat each day passes to. 020521 what's it to you? who go blather from