You will appreciate this. It sticks in me some old gum under Beethoven’s foot and I don’t even know if that’s what you said or my head read it and made it thing. But my hand really made it. Blood bed and sad mediocre silence leading up and long paper rolls on the floor of the room without sand for walls much to our disappointment. The pink glow of the ball will always signal it for me it’s strange so odd so ever puzzling what one remembers what one will always tie to a feeling. It was that pink light. You will appreciate this.
I sat, dust past minutes donkeys waiting for the chance to be a twosome you couldn’t get to me and it was some sort of cosmic sign divine light pink light whoever thought pink would be the color of end? And I think about it now and it’s all so distant and I can’t physical mind to self BE there or believe I be there. I’ve never not been here home tied to these things and the self so tied am I to the self. I can come to the tears for I just want the shred of contact but isn’t it sad that is all I think about? The year of me and we. The rest was just an intermediate self space. I think I learned from it I do but I can’t help it forgetting except the fact that I was adored and was left.
It feels such a deep eggplant purple a tightness that I can never not be even now when it is mostly .
And who but he and we and I could not have set it but the mud it crept and that was the beginning our skin browned then to be washed in the flashing water in the wake of some sort of African wildlife. That tells you how much that part of it meant to me. And it was apropos I ended the 14 with you in the Hotel one last pizza across and you said you felt it decisions were being made ones that needed to be. And there in the dark circling and no sleep contact spoke feelings the next morning.
You promised sort of not really I want to make it sound more committed than it was but I think I thought you felt we would meet once again I hope in a mud puddle like the start but I can’t help but think the fade will win, earth in its success.
José doesn’t belong in this one. Arbitrary boundaries.
I see the tie and it sort of takes me back but it was silly cold odd and who would have thought though I could have predicted awkward. And it was just a tunnel to someone else the sky and stars behind it the hand on the back the green mask care face. Yours too pretty boy debonair in the air and me just a skin and a thought who would have thought I could have thought next there you 2 sat and looked at me and it hurt and it gave me something to obsess about. And every time I walked through the air and out there in here playing at Risk questioned eyebrows sound pink cheeks no. You were tall and I was small and the need I needed.
I look at it and I don’t know why I kept that one I don’t know why I kept it.
Giddyness and train rides the start is always fun and the time it took to bring face to face minutes it was over words retracted phones redialed tears mandatory and sorry sorry for. But we stayed because it was for 7 and we slowly quickly ran out of things to and bed ran out of its sleep and comfort and food and feet stepping with a slight more than slight lack of military precision. And I saw I thought I saw what you meant. You needed you and I needed you 2 Lesotho.
But we kept going small scrolls amidst the bonsai getting lost in the hills and the books Lydia Davis still haven’t gotten past the one eighth and how long ago was it now but clouds we drive parking among audiences silence is a grilled cheese in a restaurant of couples. That one moment you wish might be beach and sunset and pre-teens wielding cameras I shaded my eyes and gazed through your neck bent shape to the sun and watched you walk on the glare sand wet sand. Coming back we missed it and circle circled.
Digital words straight to the heart and I’m falling and it is obsession always daily want it to end wait it did tears horizontal the standing stones of stenness and oddity in the light of your phone.
I didn’t much want to put this in between lines but your caps came and brought with them everything. The jokes snow measuring stick too much contact left within me the lack of it on my side the self in the now the disbelief I guess I felt it somehow. Train tracks and the stone on it water flowing minutes and gone. Pain to punish the inside it’s here it’s always and the now.
The bed and me it we. Seas screens ties lines. That bind and I’m free but now I know what I’m free from.