Thursday, March 12, 2009
We may never see the end of this. A stretch of road extends between us, you're leaving, I'm leaving, we're departing only to test our strength, and for what reason? We seek the bitter in our sugar-coated coffee, we look for the original pain we felt before we were we, and the days were cold, snow-filled, and we were lost. And were we ever found? In each other's arms, in an engagement on my floor as we looked at the world outside of our moment through the holes of an afghan blanket. The words I had for you then were no different from my words for you now as I shallow my past and speak. Addressing each moment, I yell to your distance, finding no response, and reloading my faith as I yell more for some, each with their own weight, and their only response is their crash to the dirt-dry road before me. You are a million miles away, and yet I could see you with squinted eyes. The heat raises from the pavement, making your arms look as if you are waving, your legs are dancing as you walk away. And in a beautiful way I know it is the end, and in a beautiful way I know it will all start over again. We will hide away like bandits, finding our own hideouts until the heat dies down. Our weapons are our eyes and words, and when we return to our meeting place, we'll lie of where we've been, we'll hug, and talk of future prospects, and the snow will fall again. The days will become cold, colder, and the coldest, and then you'll tell me it is Spring as I jump out of heated closet to the street, running to your open arms. We'll trip, we'll fall, we'll get cuts and bruises. I'll tell you are special. You'll tell me I am the same but so much more. And I'll smile like a joker and tell you of my schemes. We'll rob banks, we'll shoot the sky when we're running with bags of crossed S's and bucks flying to the curb. See you tomorrow, see you tomorrow.