how many futures lay before us
as curtains drawn over tempest song
where can I find you in Cuba
more lost than I
a guitar releases your name obsessively
who knows of your tomorrow
a hiss or a starlet's spotlight
a blade...of grass on wet...lips
a tight grasp of sound dreams
where brooks take their water
uncertain reflections open doors
through timeless fabric hanging from your waist
it's all a restless game of luck
or a sunset in a parking lot
what happens happens