on time

what is time? who created the second? why do we measure how emotionally mature we are by the amount of times the chunk of rock we live on has circled a ball of fire?

on girl number one

listening to the rhythms of your skin and tasting the elegance of your smile;
all i long to do is swim in the icy and unfathomable depths of your blue eyes;
it is no concern of mine whether i should perish from any number of plagues;
so long as your tears on my face are the last things i feel;
and your wine-tinged breath the last thing i smell;

i think to myself: is it logical, rational, normal...is it right?
to think about your smiling countenance and your soft-spoken words;
so many times in one day, or am i consumed by otherworldly forces;
that drive me to long for that which lies out of reach?

assail me with awkward hellos;
overwhelm me with half-hearted laughs;
seduce me with a smile...in return for one of my cigarettes;
don't look at me;

see me.