Objectivity.

And you ask, how am I doing?
This letter is for all of you,
and especially for me
it's about time I heard —

Can't count the words I've tried to scratch out
going in with glass and scalpel
but I never get further than a title —

(ours is in the trying);
so I'll settle for saying "I" time to time —

(for to gain light on things imperceptible we must use the evidence of sensible things);

Here goes —

Summer winds still get to me
rushing through my bones faster than my fingers can fly across the keys
Suddenly you're not here?
and yet you are, and you all are, and you are
Feet on the ground
let's kill this fear together, you and me —

It's just you and me.
always, and always, and always
and this is where the human language will infallibly fail
to follow the grand strokes of a soul's paintbrush
For skyscrapers finger the clouds, but they can't know
and skaters circling the lake can't know
and the sun breaking over us as we lie on the pier can't know
and old movies can't know
and sketches of silhouettes can't know
and astronomy professors can't know —

Sometimes dead leaves and dead artists get close
sometimes a tree bed leaning over a river gets close
sometimes the sky is just right
but they can't know you and me —

So I'll be your watchman until the end of time
that's where I'll be if they need me
black light on a star-littered bedroom
bare feet studying the touch of concrete, of grass
flowering tea and flowering love
taking careful notes of it all
riding the waves with souls that bleed indie music and indie coffee
a sister in the floodlights
a brother biking through the rain
watching jetstreams split the dusk
albums on repeat
sitting hidden behind an open window
hearing humans talk about what they think they mean
i'll be here, writing my novel —

All hail the defeat of words.