I sent the postcard.
The image clearly showed the change,
Chemical change.
We are romantic.
We are expectant of the change,
Chemical change.
We seek specific patterns.
We speak idyllically.

I scream, I shout,
My body’s frame resists the float.
I try to join the subject field,
A full-on case, evaporate.
This land, this skin,
Denies resolve, the surface stays.
This rocky crust will not absorb
This mobile perspectivity.
I cannot evaporate.

I shake, and spin,
The surface won’t conjoin with me.
The muscle, bone and skin won’t yield
To transformation of it’s state.
A shape is born,
An eye discerns my silhouette.
The memory, our consciousness,
Will keep this shape for later use.
I cannot evaporate.

(We are changing and rearranging.
Always changing, always rearranging.)

(We are changing and rearranging.
Always changing, always rearranging.)

We want a sunset,
No, there is nothing too cliché.
It’s like the postcard,
Confirming what we’re looking for.
It is disarming,
Experience will not align.
Our hands aren’t empty,
But we’re dissatisfied.

I scream, I shout,
My body’s frame resists the float.
I try to join the subject field,
A full-on case, evaporate.
This land, this skin,
Denies resolve, the surface stays.
This rocky crust will not absorb
This mobile perspectivity.
I cannot evaporate.

I shake, and spin,
The surface won’t conjoin with me.
The muscle, bone and skin won’t yield
To transformation of it’s state.
A shape is made,
An eye discerns my silhouette.
The memory, our consciousness,
Will keep this shape for later use.
I cannot evaporate.