a journaling

there is only morning
and there was only evening
we were always driving,
or you were.
there was always music
or picking music
or this is my favorite line.
in the mornings we rolled the windows
rolled the air through our lips
rolled ourselves out in the open
in the evenings you dropped your stories
like i already knew them
your dead mother
like i knew her
and told me who she was
without telling me what she was like
and told me how you fought that year
because you were a teenager and in love.
wrote in a journal because she left herself to you
in a journal
and gave me one
to leave myself to someone
never sure if you should leave yourself to someone
to know.
but we found what moves in the mornings
and how the dark rolls over life in the evening
sticking to music.

i only saw everything at once
or nothing at all
we only shared mornings
we only found the night
i saw it all at once
getting it all at once
never getting it all.

feb 1st 2006