The morning so cold, then the night so warm. One thing seems to follow another, another thing seems to happen just to happen. It makes for buckets of explanations. It makes for hours of bluff and chatter. My feet were interrupted from their rhythm by the traffic of snails; above my head, a stippling of stars. Time can crawl as well as fly.
I never manage to miss the moon until it has gone, daylight just that much more filler, moonlight just so many more myths and poems. Shaved down to a sliver, I can feel it melting away, even though I know it is only bathing in our broad shadow. It is deigning to share our night. Somethings are there until they are gone, only to echo and ripple through the holes left in the world. Somethings, unlike the moon, do not bother coming back.
So goodnight to dreams, all of you left dreaming. Goodnight to the sweet heart kisses you might covet and the secret faiths you blaspheme. Night settles gently, night falls so hard, night is toasted in the broad bright halls of our dead fathers, night is cursed in the depths of our mother's unlit street. You grow further the farther along I go. Tracing these maps full of mistakes, these charts of stars and misdealt hands and spent bullets. I blow a kiss, I save my breath. I never knew you, and I never will.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
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