Reverberations
<< 8:45 p.m. - Sunday, Oct. 05, 2003 >>
I told you I didn�t want to forgive them anymore, and always, I find the capacity to it let go. I said sorry, and didn�t wait for a reply. No reception. If I wrote about how things are okay now, would you believe it? Or think me a liar? I�m not grounded any longer, and really it�s made all the difference. Still sad looks and bowed heads.

I took these bound wings and put them to use. I am free.

That�s the problem with humanity. I forget sometimes you�ve lived half a decade, and all these questions I�m asking now are dead in you. There were never any answers. Are you still waiting for them? Are we always waiting to be filled? We are all broken, half lives; shimmering images of what may have been there, but is so very fleeting. The pie never goes untouched. And while my once idle hands are put to use, I am flying over cement and wondering at where I am headed. Happiness is fickle, �perhaps. I want the intangible. And I don�t want to search. I want to walk and let us meet. I won�t be complete. But I am full.

Love without clich�s is impossible. Puppy eyes and long lashes, mouthed words, hands that soothe and pet and calm. Telephone conversations at midnight in the street. Until I am palpable with emotion. You cared so much I admit I was confused. My dreams of friendships never reached these depths. Steadfast and evolving anchors. Can I carry you when you�re lame? Can I talk to you till we cry? I must return this balance.

I got your letter with the sixteen bananas. Smarties, eh? I love you.

There are three shadows around me. Past, present and future, and as I walk at night they slide in and out of eachother. And I'm wondering if I can make a metaphor out of that.