Gabby

We like to laugh stringy word taffy

On a cobblestone with debatable falling rain,

Our faces contorting viciously
For a Wal-Mart bicycle falling to pieces.

Our conversation’s lease has been extended

Because when we ponder we search
Through many tongue dances and waltzes

On the hunt for meaning
Taking place somewhere between our vibrant jaws

Huntress pulls the sword from the rock

And we rediscover wheels forged at birth

During divorces and hurricanes and deaths

And “Why are we here?”

Tumbles through a break in a sentence

So we fall with it.

The trickling rain is now true

Until we deny the truth,
That has fallen out of favor.

We are lies.
And as I imagine you with me and wanting

Being oscillates under nothingness--

And is it hailing now?

Giggle factory, laugh riot, sun-kissed sound

Begins while I wonder how we can be in multiple states:

You, in search; me, in wait
Always waiting
For a special word union.

We have known of this proverb of the proverbial discontent,

Of two youths standing around in wait of an ideology

To shoot and kill and bring back for the feasting of more flashing teeth.

Gabby, I will serve you dinner, 

How does Friday sound?

Yes.

We will speak as usual,

Turning capitalized ideas into baguettes
And me into cut and chewed goat cheese.

As knowing and nothingness resonate with our beings.

We will shake and collapse

And be devoured,

Until we realize it's snowing.