restlessness infests like a cheap drug.

like cheap whiskey, turned to acetylaldehyde, to an acidic vapor,
then
escapes and turns you back to the grave. into the living.

restless love of summer too.
the chocolate leather brown lumber--bones of trees hewed to 1x10 then nailed into place to provide rest for restless lover of summer.

the sun bled green through the tangled tendrils from the veracious vines, the wisteria that has yet to bloom in may, in april, in june, in august, in july.

i wait.

it warmed the air around me and so wrapped around my wounded head and feet in a medicinal breeze.

i think: these are not sebocorticals.

this is love. for i am dirt too, mother.

i too am dirt,

and ash, and dust.

restless love of summer is the paradox that drains the wintered veins from lifelessness.
but pruning is replaced two by two fold--they say.

now i wait.

within the restless.

so it hung in a distant expiration,

restless.