Paratrooper

I enjoy the accidental pressure of a mouth that is telling a secret.

There was a haze to the right shaped like my memory of Two Lovers' Leap.

Sometimes it seems like the roads never change. Every trip is the same.

I'm living my life in circles.

Everything has gone flat.

What am I waiting for?

(absence of poetry)

Highs that seem common

Lows that lack poignance

No wonder I can't find poetry in my circumstances