the last days

i want to tell you something

about time and space and

dreams that are too far away to stop

me from staring at the ceiling ---

what does it mean?

i dont know what anything means.

the rain falls on exausted grass, to

ascend again to the heavens,

there are hundreds and hundreds of pairs of lungs

too far away to ever breathe the same air,

and music and conversation and beauty and pain ---

are they all pieces of a cosmic jigsaw puzzle?

perfection at one specific state.

but, do you think,

is it being taken apart, 

or being put back together again?