1.
There is an old building that breathes too cold in my mind. So aged that even paint is stripping itself away from the walls, to be blown afar off. The lines of graffiti there are blurred by thriving moss--markings made by boys too desperate in their attempts to unmask the female anatomy; too excited in revealing their knowledge to their peers; too much in want. Too much in need.
And there I added to the wall with a marker that I was carrying:
"Because of need
one day we will open
the gates to our homes
with knives in our mouths
for protection."
2.
And afterwards I remembered how much I had wanted to change for you---
I could have woken up one day with black or green eyes, in place of my dull dark brown ones. I could have walked up beside you and smiled when you had noticed me and you would not have recognized me at all. Because I would have been everything that you wanted.
But I didn't.
3.
I looked out through the partly crumbled doorway of the building and there it was: an open field. I walked out of the building, and upon finding myself no longer under the shade of the trees outside, began to run across the field
until I couldn't anymore and I fell.
With my back against the ground I held up my palm and watched the sun's rays outline my fingers in a red glow. For a moment I was translucent; for once my hands were that of a lover's.
( _")
Thursday, May 24, 2007
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2 comments:
omg... this is beautiful... very poignant.
Mike, you have such an intimate and personal ways with words.
Hallelujah! :-) I hope you're having a good week my friend!
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