litter.
2005-11-03 9:14 a.m.
penciled in, i seemed to end where i began, and came up gasping at the short hand of innocence, some new order to keep us all in check - governmentof the bodies, our haphazard arrangements that collapsed and left us breathless, unexpecting any great fall in our lifetime, we were surprised
by simple changes that were natural once mentioned, the changing leaves that found their way in through car windows
and littered us with winters love letters, this is the beginning of rebirth, and it is much like dying.
home late from the hospital, i stumble in, all smiles and reflections, substantial, the hours that have passed between us, that sent us arm in arm to get close.
love lets our friends know that we are boring.
these are good days, and there are not so many of them; they still feel new.
a week, we wake up sounding our alarms, moving our mouths at the thought of seven thirty, pushing buttons to make twenty minutes for growing closer, the half attempt at sleep during which we learn to know one another, before the day comes and we remember that we must leave.
i have a feeling that this is how an affair rings itself out in the hollows of cheating bones, making known
that each touch could be the last touch, the part of this that no one knows, that no one else will ever see
is that we are sitting in our complete heavens, cast out for individuality, and embracing common culture.
i have been thinking lately of the way sentences will hand in hand go over to making rhythmic exchanges, a story about living in which we hardly noticed, and never appreicated, the chances we'd been given
has ended, and we have begun a new chapter
where i let him mark out constellations in my stomach, each a system in its orbit, glowing bright with prospects. this man who knows me,
knows me as more than the alignment of my body, knows me hidden and modest and angry, knows me failed and hardly able to keep going, knows me carried when the worst is almost over.
and, for once in my life, i want to remember loving.