Dean Waite

Coming back to the visuals,
I have my own ideas.
Like my idols fantasies she lives,
and fears,
concerned with my own reactions
that make my minds turmoil attraction.

But it’s my pool for drowning
my silence and poise.
My tree to hang from
and my desperate noise.

Crazy late
is on my plate
my knife and fork are clean

The table
and surroundings
are the places that I’ve been

Glint and scratching
napkins matching
a fraction of the scene

Smil…