it's cold, and i'm so happy. thought i had a clean break, but i'm home again, and i'm happy to be here. my backyard looks like a used palate, and my hands are freezing, even in my coat pockets where you tell me to shove them. i have half the brain to jump ship and swim back up the atlantic, but you'd be my bouy. i hope so, at least.
coast - to - coast.
i'm a little bit taller, i'm a little bit fatter, i'm a little bit smarter, i'm wiser now. three years is a long time, and my hands look older, my laugh lines more refined. my taste, sporadic. my eyes, grounded. my knees, nervous. my heart, flighty; but it descends for you.
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