still coming around

overbearing endless oak tree,
come flood with me

that lake of glacial run off,
shot back the blue hue sky,
and when i closed the arguing voices in my head,
the image of you had carved itself into most of my daily routine

some days i dream just to dream,
just to remember that i can

and i can paint myself naked with words,
or shroud myself with vague coverings spun from those same letters,
open up to that expensive empty sky,
or hatch my inward energy toward you

i'm here,
and that's what i know

i'm not perfection,
and i won't pretend to be