god, where are you now?

it was only when there was kissing that fingers felt the earth move. only at dawn when the words surged and leapt forward out of space. I�ve been listening to too much cure and not realizing how much it makes me think of you. not realizing how little I want to think about you. I have made art of not thinking of you, art of not talking about you to people I meet, art of not spending every day waiting by the phone for you to call, art of hitting my head against imaginary walls when things you do still move me. and there is nothing left to make art of. I can paint no more pictures of tiny worlds microcosms left unchained unbearable by the worst of men. I will climb no more towers to the home of princesses and gorge myself no more on the lips and bodies of women enraptured by the things I say, the way I look at them, these things are cold and solitary and give me reason to only walk away from things. I am what I am. I have been learing at windows of goddesses and found only vague reflections not worth half a day with you. I have scorched myself on beauty that burns the skin and have only found myself waiting for another chance to be burned by yours. �once, my life was a feast where all hearts opened and all wines flowed�� and now I am draped bent and harnessed over a reckless surface guarded only by nonchalant saints and backbreaking kings with names matching mine. I�ve been made slave to my own recollections. I�ve had enough of you. where can I find you? no more thoughts to pierce me. where are you laying now? I can�t think of a single beautiful thing about you. where is beauty found aside from beneath your gaze? I have found no other way to live than without you. god, where are you now?

2002-09-28 | 1:22 p.m.
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