quick fix

i have been looking for inspiration everywhere.
he left me two years ago and i haven't seen him since.
at first i thought he went to the books; so i followed him there.
i dug into the words, the sentences, the stories about things for which i didn't care
and the most i could find were pages with dirty edges where he had touched before.
must have been a touch and go,
so i left and tried finding him in the green of the world, the blue of the sky,
a glorious gift to a godless life,
until i realized he was just a visitor here, too.
i found out the day when the fires burned in my backyadr.

maybe in another green i would find him - all the materials i would ever need in my grasp,
maybe not everything, but everything i wanted? possible.
a baeutiful surprise that he never even loved the green.

\and i found him, someplace. i needed help so i made him a promise.
"if you promise" he said, "to never say my name," he went on,
and he grabbed my hand and helped me onto the platform he was standing on,
"dont fall off" you might never get a second chance
to dance
at last
with the world in your hands.