It's midnight again
Except
I'm not thinking about my childhood
But I'm thinking about you
And the dumb laugh that I see so often
And the angry face, the voice full of poison
But I'm thinking about the softness, too
Primarily of your jaw, and of the pigment in your eyes
And how in months or years or decades from now
There are two options, a path to forgetfulness and a path to renewal
Yet each brick road is lined with barbs or burrs or poison ivy
And as I lay here and ponder the outcomes of our futures
I hear the dumb laugh
See the angry face
And the soft eyes
And the soft jaw
