let me sing you a waltz

out of nowhere, out of my thoughts.
thus is how nowhere is actually within the thought.

and so your thought is there, within the nowhere,
as you walk that road leading to a studio apartment.
a place of wishes and of songs.


of a friend whose thought had been in the apartment. you know.


of a friend who knows where the apartment is. a visit has been a wish. they say wishes are never said. just because. even the fishes know this.


the apartment is big enough, for two right? then, i'd stop by when the sun sets. and, no, i'm not spending the night.