I thought about writing you a love letter, telling you how I dreamed of you and woke up with my fingers bloody. I decided I didn’t know how to do it and the idea fell by the wayside. Instead I started thinking of spoken word, lilting with voice and a little bit of song. Telling you, instead, of your mouth, your words, how they cling to me like electricity is playing with static soley for my benifit. I wonder what what you’re doing sometimes, at any random moment. I’ll be looking out over the ocean, slate gray waves under a silver sky and you’ll come to me. I’ll turn my head just right and catch you in the corner of my eye.