Literature
A Run-On Sentence About Staying Where You Are
In a halo of messy hair
and metal shavings everywhere
my thoughts return to you
and what I would do
if we were less constricted,
if we were less restricted,
by the paths we've chosen
that leave us almost frozen
in warm beds
with full heads,
busy days
set in our ways
and complacent
with energy spent
on getting by,
forgetting why
we are even here
and it becomes clear
that things just are
the way they are
and it doesn't matter that you make me nervous,
that the only time my thoughts find purchase
is when they return to you
and what I would do
if we were less constricted,
if we were less restricted.