yesterday's balloons, tomorrow's parachutes

 you stretched your limbs out the moment you awoke
and drowning myself in my favorite morning smoke,i was on the balcony popping yesterday's balloons
i hoped you'd wake up soon

and in mourning's breakfast's fleeting feeding
you were quietly completing
sudoku puzzles and you were not blinking

and you're so lovely when you're really thinking

the coffee bubbled and filled the air like a toxic ventilation
when we closed our eyes we were on vacation
i am still quite scared when you say you need to talk to me
the toaster popped and your lungs bellowed smog like a factory

i think that our blankets could make perfect parachutes
if we decide to take that jump into the swelling street
and splatter ourselves on the concrete
and know we are not alone