In the studio

All the poetic words and thoughts that were never recorded bring me up to this moment where I sit.
The words of left have left just like the apatite 
She waits until I'm watching before she begins to eat.
since it largely remains parked out front she has become more calm sleeping under the table in the studio that I dreamed of. 
  the bike with the continually deflating tire often remains at the foundry overnight.
I will arrive home unexpected, and then immediately be greeted because she waits by the window just like I did waiting all day for my dad to come home.
We're all rushing to be the king of the hill. looking around and seeing the numbers, 
we sit in the dust and draw instead.
I go outside to see your bike on its side and further I see the gate still open and so I decided to retrieve the recycle bucket and once I get to the front of the house I see that the front door is open with the lights on inside so all the bugs can go in.

The dragon fly meets the motorcycle

The man breathes  betta fish 

as he drives down the road 

 the leaves fly like the birds watching him pass.
The Dragonfly takes a break and rest on his oversized too XO leather jacket he found at a pawn shop for $50 it came with the helmet.

 He passes the pond but he remembers falling into as a child and the moment of falling has never left him as he tries his motorcycle by.

 They restrain their beast with tethers that show the types of people that they are. 

 The dragonfly and I travel for many miles and see nothing. I remember the playground for the kindergarten in China so we would sneak into when no one was there are we climb over the wall and look for the room with a little chairs and little tables and everyone has their own packages of markers we would go into the courtyards to play . 

And she looked over and saw them kissing