Bordeaux

And the legs on my good Sam’s bought Bordeaux
dances in shadow prints on an empty desk
finding good music and wanting to own it’s rhythm
seeing my blood in a new light
seeing her different
never the same
a season has come to an end
and I’m not sad that the
chapters closed
that we’ve grown up a bit
the future seems to hover
in my present moment of confusion
delighting in the inconsistencies in life
in the inconsistencies of what I say
what I enjoy
who I am
and that’s just simply my complex life
knowing journal entries and blogs don’t lead to change.
Change itself leads to change
and my poetic presence seems magically strengthened
and I remember what I said that day to you, at the table,
I want to be a book not write one.
A living piece of art
breathing