old people

sometimes i forget where im going. you see.... the thing is all of you move so slowly.... and blood is thin these days, unlike molasses, but foggy minds and cloudy glass still make moves for strain to slack. tds letters written in pen and ink lack luster the in stories one has been told. new found hills of color and craze cause for dropped time in dark old house cafes. stir the milk in my cereal and lose the sugar in slow certificates of spoons as they pass open windows and cobblestones. lips and the blue in my apartment are roughened by multi-colored muscles as they twist and turn in elongated movements of married delicacy. care bears and candied apples live in homes of relics while dragons and stolen dreams are chased by fiends of foolery. lose yourself amongst the sand.