an apology
it's the dangling arms when you get right down to it that drive me so crazy, take my breath from me and i can see that somewhere in there you have quiet days and need, more than anything, the hope i could never give you of nights in bed reading bedtime books (anais nin: henry eat your heart out) and some perfect moving man leans over to place kisses on your forehead after a hard day, and you know it means more than love and happiness but me, i'm a pretty simple sort, with more than my share of anguished days and more than just a couple skeletons in my closet that keep me from you. so in your earnest hours, smiling you say pretty things to me and we both know that the future is so imaginary and my closeness is the closeness of monks with no more safety offer than indifference, no more love than all that's mine to give and i know that it isn't enough it isn't what you need. but when you came in so impulsively i was shaken so far from here made into beachside paradises but only half done and halfway out of the dark. (construction is so slow.) i hope your reading this like i mean it taking it in the way you take so many colors in from your one-sided world, your one-sided ways that i adore (you still make me tremble sometimes) so quietly in here, a cell of human endevour watching the crowd for the myth, the miracle, the line that makes everything come together, makes sense of the droughts and fires and wasted loves. but not yours that isn't and can't be mine.
2004-06-28 | 8:31 p.m.
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