not sure where this came from...and even less sure of who "i" and "you" are. it's late--and i need to find sleep.

--
a smell [so bold i can taste it] of half-baked, stagnant breath...the same one you tried to pass me before. you try to hide yourself, but i should give fair warning. i know you.

i'm wary of your lines, so well rehearsed--that look in your eyes, you attempt to disguise with a slow blink and subtle change in subject. i'm familiar with the slight flutter of your heart and panic in your movement when you're not quite sure how those last words were meant to taste. but who could forget the intrinsic joy in the shape of your brow when the smile of your soul is genuine, and the cool draft of your voice in disappointment that could shatter a glass-box of dreams.
nothing is as beautiful as the glint in your step when you're at Home.

when i turn to you, and ask you why you're here, don't look at me with the same eyes you did before. take a breath, refresh life, and
tell me something i don't know.

--



i think i'll let you.