what strange glowing

i pull a stool up to the shower. what should i do with the pieces that fall? rain pecked rendezvous for illicit hugs too sinful for anywhere but nondescript, downtown shadow district. how do i share what i supposedly possess? chocolate caught gaze. inscrutable, her lips. any mention of positivity makes me nervous. she arrives and locks the door on my dreamy evening. condensation tucks us in the soft lit tank. tarot cult in the corner, a tablespoon of tea, and a plethora of pours to taste the gradation of flavor. i have an eye for shine & all that glistens leads me on a leash of rain. in what year do you live and when did you press pause? unwillingly plucked from anonymity, groping for healing medicine's middle. are there any classic happenings happening again? so transparent, i'm not sure if there's anything left i should share. savoring delusion, chanting reflection's reflections. spiritless tones repeat. more formal friendliness for a footless diet. familiar voices from unfamiliar behind me faces. walls aglow with frilly golden girls. you keep showing up storyless and you aren't even the protagonist in any story you ever do tell. joyful bodies met. an atmospheric soundtrack instead of verse-chorus-verse. sometimes my solitude is a comfortably cranky marriage and sometimes i am shouting at my aloneness, cowering in the corner. i need a reminder to remember what to retrieve in order to recommend. a single crow alights upon the plaza sign's turned off hooks of light. a stray, furtive comma baits the literary overcast. sitting uneasily inside this well lit cube, my incognito choices breath lightly behind unturned knobs. these are the words given to pass. dirty amber signals, blinking within the ash, soaked & sulking desultory trees get down on their roots and pray beside our slick tireful street. this the sexiest revolution you never had. she moved with agility he reported from the front seat, on our way to fly awake. sledding flakes, skin snows upon an immaculately shoveled page. a sad eyed, tree tied dog patiently waits in the rain, still smelling her fresh departure. i've been neglecting my lacking again. i'm not making judgements against genre, i just can't clean my plate. she popped in to fetch her forgotten flowers, a tall bright yellow passenger who rides in the seat beside her, that bouquet zipped away. glass jars are petting zoos for lovely petals. the hooded milkman is nearly dwarfed by the empty blue stack of plastic crates wheeled down the dripping wet sidewalk, pasted with flattened, filthy gold tadpoles. across the street, a leafless tree serves as a rack for rain to hang its drops. below me and beneath the awning, her smoking gaze is roasted dark, her cheeks caramel creamy, her eyebrows bold, fat, and frothy as her big mouth puffs on her own handrolled cigarette, sunk so beautifully, deep inside her wool. i watch a slender mom hoist her pale blonde hatless angel boy across the parking lot, half full with cold sleeping cows, while her boy continues to glow, in spite of the distance, like a shadeless day white bulb. before me, a twig of a branch dangles delicately from the stronger arm of a young tree. less than a handful of heart-shaped leaves left, burnt orange, torn & rotting, trembling in the breeze. my dream catches robins lifting off & settling, bouncing from branch to branch before departing together again for the next tree, testing perhaps their solidarity before the season turns hard. 

and i ask, what joys should i share?