not yet ~
August 18, 2012
It is the most perfect clarity of the sun. Like so much cotton candy it disappears once tasted on the tongue. That’s not how this begins, but I can’t begin. I am in the middle of a story that never ends.
It is like stepping into a river, never to enter the same spot twice and I try, for a third time today to find the words that escape my grasp… for my hands are open, palms facing down. And it is in this position that the storms rumble, electric waves of shock, and they build and the hold until they are released with the tiny tapping of fingertips.
And the tips they do tap as they do type and they find the rhythm of the key strokes but my mind, no dice. And I wonder if I could write without thinking, just listen to the keys tap tap away and simply compose my prose accordingly but no, this sentence takes too much thought so I continue then, slowly, to find my point.
It is here in the middle of the story that I begin again. Nothing like a new beginning, said the addict.
Yesterday, I return to my stroll and I do it well as my hips do roll and my shake do shock and a man up in a wheelchair said, I love your walk. And I walked long in the sun, long enough to bubble copper and gold as my skin glistened delicate and soft and I smiled because no longer was I lost.
I was found, or it found me. And as the message came, it was clear and sweet.
I just want to love you.
So love me. It feels good.
And my chest closes tight in a knot and I can’t breathe for a minute and it gets hot. The concrete is sparkling with shards of glass and you know why the concrete sparkles like this? It’s cause rats will burrow in it. Yes. Under these streets are tunnels, warrens, dens. And the only thing that will stop them is shards of glass.
Tho, on acid it looks like somethinn else. Looks like the streets are littered with gems and the light winks and blinks and tickles gently. It is glitz and glamour and greatness at once and who ever said not everything that glitters is gold has obviously never made due with less than twenty four kayy.
But yes. I do digress. I wish to express this thing. This thing that I was told and I sit here, breathing it in and breathing it out and knowing, now knowing, just knowing, ahhhh. I’m not ready. Not yet.