2 or More

FrictionMan is holding something in his hand,

he stares at it with an intensity that is almost freighting,

seated in the palm of his hand,

he rotates it with that thumb,

three hundred and sixty,

again and again.

FM “You know Gem, I was wandering about; seems like forever”

FM “I was so torn up and twisted that I felt the moon chasing my soul all over this damn place”

FM “I wanted to be a caretaker; a vision of my own dreams slapping back on me”

G “FrictionMan, you have your daemons, I have mine”

G “Mostly, I just wanted a house to be my home”

FM “I see your heart”

G “I keep a heart on my door; the message is clear”

FM “When the storms of my soul caught me in that dream, I was longing and breaking”

FM “I was begging for the fog to flood over me and take me to the glory”

G “That glory might just be the taste of my lips, FrictionMan”