it's not enough to drown out
the sound of our constantly
beating hearts.
I began writing you letters
in my mind while sitting behind
Bohemian curtains and painting
lines on canvas to pass the time.
Days blended together and evenings
came during which I realize
I hadn't been painting at all;
there were piles of empty mugs,
unwashed clothes strewn across my world.
When I got dressed that morning
the calendar revealed the months
that quickly passed, exes on calendars,
counting back as I lived in my solitary room;
where had I been?
The rain comes when least expected,
dripping patterns on tin roofs
with the hush of rushing water;
we are rejuvenated in morning dew
and monsoon weather, in waves
of liquid foaming blue.
Let's take a trip to the ocean.
