taking place...

[machinery]

Where'd you go last night? Your eyes and the words you spoke told me of an evening...an evening of good times. This grows me jealous. How can it not? Last night. I didn't catch myself or my night in you; I refused. The travel and the route that was taken through my body was incredible. It wasn't you, you don't dissolve...You didn't taste as "new' as this -- my jaw locked -- my gums were jumpy -- and I rolled my tongue across my teeth, my mouth (continously) to feel that "feeling." Yes, you made my eyes complete..made them cry and wonder, numerous times -- but you never made them large and black.....

I thought you were the trip, the best, the most intriguing, beatiful, full, firm body of curves and smooth moist layers -- I never wanted to come off it (but I know...)

Something has to take your place.....

[lost to be found]

There is something about this poem that draws me to read this over and over. It is like a confused understanding that lies beneth. The feeling are present, but unsteady, not aware of the rules or what applies. I relate but am also awe stricken to fully understand its true meaning. I feel you have a lot of feelings and thoughts that need to be resolved or have a closure to feel better and not be left empty.

[parch]

like a dialogue, monologue, working it out. that is art there. this is real. i like that. it makes sense.

___---parch

[machinery]

So is it complete? is that what you are asking, or am I, complete, hard questions...

Why do you think this is art? Why do you want to read it over and over again???

[parch]

i saw it as art cause i saw it as an actual monologue in a play... up on stage, this could work well like that, cause that's what monologues are for...to work stuff through.

___---parch