something i will never know the giving of and why i stay away from those types of passions the most arrested and piercing of reasoning living a separate slipping to the sound of a leash unfastening to be in a state of hurling till clicking slows and time finds itself in my speaking the letters of a name that belongs to another continent, culture, class the layers of which overlap every thought i bring myself to with the images of my neighborhood grown and maybe the right you that you were for that brief moment i felt close to maybe i will find you there sleeping.