(no subject)

they are mostly small moments. maybe it's so with everyone. i write them over and over - little worlds like butterscotch lifesavers. my personal favourite is the hole worn just big enough to fit the tip of my tongue through.

coming like smells before seizures and leaving like seasons, i keep filing them away as retrievable but they're not. the rest is the concrete; the rest will persist, the rest is the irresistible. littering away the good stuff, letting it slide me by, thinking i can pick up the trail again later - i am mistaken.