straight lines.
2006-05-06 8:09 p.m.
it no longer appears that there are many ways for moving, and when up, i have become so foolish that i beg you back to my door only to hope that you won't listenlike all others, i am given to these problems - the safe side of me goes grinning, scared, receptive of ambition and of clever motives. the rest of me has shivered until the seasons, forced to stop their own progression, made bones for one another -
we have come to the point that the winter has hurried on into the summer, and keeps us (beleaguered) aching for the soil, sore for those times of reckoning that wore us out, that made us clean and holy.
life is slow, and it does not bare up the dramatics of youthfulness, those relationships that we have left, revisited, now carry our excuses for giving second chances, now remind us of what could have been,
now make us glad for what has happened.