Porcelain
<< 4:04 p.m. - Sunday, Dec. 21, 2003 >>
Things changed with clear horrible lovely liquid. I looked through the glass�s bottom after a great gulp and the world was caught like a fisheye lense. Too bad I can�t remember anything. Too bad the evening is so thick and dark in my mind. I remember though, that feeling of looseness. Absolute and manufactured carelessness. I kissed the face before me. I held the boy who put his hand in mine. Will this last? Will this hold? I don�t know. You held me there before and let me go. How can I stand on the invisible plank and keep walking? That�s the point perhaps? You have to trust. You have to close your eyes.

You can�t get scared. We are but porcelain dolls. If you break. If you fall. The pieces will fit together again.