albatross

teh truth was written in my bones before, about love and all the rest. it was there and everyone had it to hold and know about. i passed it around like a candle and they could see it. it was a bulliten for them. then, there you were. and moreso. for a year a year a year a year and so finally i filed it off my bones, reached in, a skin depth-charger and erased the truth from myself that i coudl ahve not what was real or true but what i wanted. i guess i ended up with the truth anyway. it grew back or, like a bent branch, smacked me in the face, a rattlesnake made of the long greek gods.

2004-01-05 | 2:52 p.m.
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