February 6, Habits

in southern sweden we no longer
look into each other’s eyes
there’s no use feeding
what’s behind them
people say

all you’ll ever need
in these days of future past
comes honest
thick skin
lucid dreams

and on the worst of nights
maybe, just maybe
someone to hold you tight.

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January 8, My City

fair enough is my defense
as I ache for release from the mediocre

my city is a young person
chest hurts when it breathes
surrounding midnight winter fog
makes us let go of our prejudice
but not our pretension
it heals us
moves like a hebrew haiku
this close
whispering sweet collective dreams into our ears
saying,
maybe this time will be different
maybe this time will be the one

maybe these times were born to howl these ballads.

January 1, Nervous

when I met you for the first time,
it was in a bar
I was on the verge,
a storm of beer in my belly
to cover up the nervous

you had no shame, laughed like you meant it

later that night we would kiss ferociously
and sleep in separate beds,
both dreaming of elsewhere
the nervous whisked off
to that special place,
where feelings go when they are forgotten
later we would use mobile phones
the way some people use lifelines,
pulling each other in,
straining to save each other

and we frequently do.