Take it all down, down down in that notebook, reminiscing in hallways feet bare pressed up against the wainscotting, asleep in one ear awake in one eye, alive to the breathing of spiders not four feet away. Little eyes hands scritch scratching down everything the eye has willed to see, cold ass on this tile, spread legged, let it be be let it be. You remember the alleyway. The salt stains on boot heels, the crisp breath coming forth to color the wind, enough to linger, awake and loving the smell of winter in the city, climbing stairs to reach heaven somewhere on rooftops, pen in twisting fingers, smiling savoring simply being. You were a monument, cold and stony, a hairsbreadth away from being truly insane. And I wore that badge like an honor. Cupped it quiet and long in trembling, gentle fingers. Allowed myself to really look at the thing, the whole thing, the picture so panoramic a single lens would shatter if it tried to encompass all of it at once. I allowed myself to be in love with this thing so harsh and so delicate, so willing to compromise my life at any second. These windowboxes, these rhythms of celestial pull, the world so homey so terribly malignant. Alone, I called out to the Universe in childish fashion: I’d asked it to befriend me.
Posted on: Wed, 13 Aug 2014 02:07:21 +0000
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