note. measure. tone. (paper trail.)

secretly, i write a lot of letters.  whole addresses to people with no address.  even with no replies, its still nice to think of them receiving the letters and possibly penning a return line of words.  if i fold them into cranes, these unsent soliloquies, its sort of as though that was the intended idea in the first.  it also gives speculation to a plethora of horrible metaphors about thoughts soaring, having my head in the clouds, and other such nonsense. 
i'm a bit distracted.

our lives are shoots and ladders?

mob mentalities and superficialities
moving along to societies musicalities
main conductor,  streamlined,
leads us with a certain kind of grandeur
like ants in a farm,
                   birds on a wire.
paper doll silhouettes
on ivory tusk dusk:    daisy chain frames
lace
trace erased.
pen inked blinks, weary
lurking leary
photograph shots: blirred
botched.
memory box, hostage thoughts.
sunset.
            lost.

oh look, a song.