Going For A Run

Without all dream I am common. Without dream the desert dies. Patience doesn’t like running. Running doesn’t like patience, either. But I am running towards patience so I hope they need me. I hope something needs me. I want a course in collision. I want to live despite dying—I am not defeat. I will never conceal stars. They have too much to burn.     The flow of mountains keeps me up at night. The flow of mountains tells me my time is almost up. This is not what I need to hear—still—I bury melancholy as far as the word “damned” allows me. It has always been the tallest statue in my collection of dispositions. I do not know what my countenance screams, no one has ever told me the answer to many of my questions. I dream in words, not photographs. I like to abscond from my own subterranean tricks and vicious vexes. I love to live despite my dying and glean from courses in collision. I love to find things in the imaginary. Pulling rivers and stre --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/nakedpoetry/support