Monday 6/12/2006 11:26:00 PM

There's nothing to see except lonely people looking for somewhere to land. Empty roads are forgotten for the everything else we take for granted. Eyes like matches. Setting fires everywhere.

I catch the hawk hunting from high above and wonder how it knows. Which claw will kill. And which will only cripple.

Take your clothes off as though you hardly know the difference. Cotton skin strewn everywhere. Like christmas lights all tangled. Ready to be undone.

Drawing the tragedy with an empty pen. I can't die for those who wouldn't die for me.

Truth my alibi as I watch their lives happen. Shadows of who they think they are.

Everything is real until we touch it. Soft velour masquerading as velvet. It's not that it's not good enough. Just that it doesn't believe.

My perjury. I lied to myself. And believed it. Because everything I wanted depended upon convincing myself there was truth in this laughless comedy.

My perjury. My conviction. Myself. The judge.

I'm only as guilty as my softest wish.

I can get so near. Or so I thought. Just edges really. Drawing their margins.

I don't need to know how to live. Remembering too well those treadless stairs dropping me down into. I couldn't fall that far for anyone. Not even you.

I've changed colors for the last time. There's no going back to the branch.

It's more noble I would think to allow it to forget.

I don't ever want to want again. Not like this.

Drawing the margins with broken pencils. Trying to decide how far. Drawing all over each other like treasure maps to unseizable riches.

Everything beautiful treats me like a skeptic. I don't blame it. That's what I am. Always waiting for it to disappoint.

Given enough time.

It always does.

Anonymous said...

Yes, Yes...

"Everything is real until we touch it."

You hit me hard with this entry.
Good and hard.

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