Coming out of a blunted presence,
I howl for a
subtle distinction.
I growl for an
advanced grace.
I rumble for a
refined caress.
I thought I didn't belong
to a mystified condition.
But I sure don't belong
to a settled position.
And I sure don't know
where you've been hiding your grief.
But I wish
I touched that space in between.
Where you hid
your somber thoughts.
Where you burried
your gloomy belief.
Where I wish
we ran away
from all mundane things.
All at once.
All at last.