Different Courses to Maneuver, By S.M. Bjarnson

I'm so filthy tired, but I'll write the words on the page anyway.

Spoken here, uttered there.

You heard the words, I talked the rhythms.

We had different paths to cross, different journeys to overcome.

That's how we got here, it’s how you got to me and I got to you.

Feeling each other’s breaths we eat away the nervous flutter in the bellies of our minds.

Biting our lips for the temptations of lure to come to life.

It's what you want, what they bring?

Holding hands, coursing through the veins of time, we are all what we are meant to be.

Aren't we, to see that?

You want to run to the shore, search through all the old memories of places and times.

I'm gonna rush into the open waves, disappear into the empty swirls of yesterday.

All I want to do is swim into the horizon.

After all it was just one night, just one time.

It's all we ever were most of time, most of the day.

Nothing, but moments clashed together by the untangling air.

A goodbye look in your eyes, a quick see ya later kiss to the cheek, we both scattered in different ways.

Never to be caught again, in each other’s nets of time and whispering moments.

-S.M. Bjarnson

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