for your eyes

for me, mostly its in the middle of the night
two three am, like that
when i hear the music
soundtrack only i can hear
visions of mexico city, paris, tokyo
places i dont know well

places i have traveled well
in my dreams, my poetry, other lives i suppose
i am always supposing
dont mind me

i am always writing poetry
only meant for me to understand
and i dont even get it

there was a time i thought i was supposed to
supposed to get it
to understand

i know different now
i am only a messenger
my midnight poems are for you
or you

i am no more relevant to this puzzle
than the paper the message is written on
then passed from desk to desk in third period
second period
lunch
whatever

the point is not the paper
the point is the passing