thoughts before fall strikes

I want to talk about the last taste of summer, 

how the trees are slightly tinted

and how people's lives start over in the fall

which is when everything else dies.

Shake hands with the edge of a new season

in a new building

labeled with some future you don't want

but they encourage you to explore.

Take your pills

or skip a few days

and let the side effects tell you who you are.

They told me I had bedroom eyes

but it's only because I take my bedroom with me

to make every place feel more like a solace.

And I've always loved complexities;

digging ideas 

out of ideas 

out of paint streaks 

and makeshift mountains.

My mother got mad at me for going back to Spain,

after getting shipwrecked off its coast.

But I was destined to wash up on its shores 

and the land there is more beautiful than the sea.

I found myself because veins are like roadmaps:

you know where they lead

but the journey is never what it looks like

and the motion never ends

and the twining lines don't make sense unless you zero in on them.

And I hope as the leaves die

and the bodies blossom

that you make sense of your roadmaps

and never let the blood out of your veins.