 |
| photo by rochelle flack |
said we were leaving an hour and a half ago, told the whole world, but walking down the street i don't feel the responsible pull of work in the morning - rather i feel the impossible pull of something unresolved, heavy, tearing, making me crazy
an arm around me. another pull, a lifeguard reaching,
i've been gifted nothing,
whether i wanted it or not.
but from nothing i can create so much.
from nothing i can rebuild myself.
then from nothing i can imagine it in thousands of ways
i mean they're all wrong, they're sketches,
they glow and warp daily depending on my competence,
mutate
(the further the further i still have to go)
we fleshed it out in the car for an hour and a half and a half-decision fills me with comfort and dread in equal parts, hot pink mistakes, pathetic attempts in the face of stone-like strength - i think november 1 is an achievement, as is november 11, november 17, december 1, etc,
and smaller things that make me smile:
my boss talking to me with her mouth full
two speakers exploding with sound
stories fill my car,
other people are happy, basking in that
leeching
(for you i have so many words,
but i forget where we were)
No comments:
Post a Comment