retrieving records, rompers

there you were
and there i was
looking up
at your face illuminated
then not
and again and again like benevolent waves
backlit then apparition
always moving forward.

in the tedious, sporadically lit hallway
you rolled me past doors
that hide the precious and worthless
i look at you, feeling small
like a baby in a shopping cart
then we make all the faces we can
with our tongues and cheeks and eyes

mayday

I'm chipped away
stripped
today
I start new

pink and vulnerable
two trim travel bags
baby blue butter leather
thats where my shit is

records, record player
stickered footlocker
costumes
books
on costumes
in a five by five
for forty

long long long
labyrinthian hallway
for forever
and at the end
the blue door of
memory, material