Saturday 6/03/2006 10:22:00 PM

Such diligent needles chase these rips. Nervous eyes. Arrogant fingers. It's the thread that betrays. The knot that slips through these erstwhile stitches. And I know how everything feels. Not just this one curtain. But every one. On every window.

If we could close the holes we'd be poorer for it. Victims of the perfection we worship. Their trespasses are the purest form of love. When everything is right, the wrong is all that I can trust.

The squeak of his jacket as he leaned in to let me taste him. The sound of our breathing filling the compartment. Its dominion broken at last in one fluid act of aggression. And I shrunk like a child in the shadow of a fist. Signaling to the pain I was ready for it.

One hour's drive back until time has changed. Zeroed. So many green lights. Not enough gas.

Stabbing the stop signs with knives made of clay. As the handles consumed my grip. There was everywhere to go. But nowhere to rest. I was simply a myth debunked. My own holy grail proven powerless.

To every vein there is a needle. With equal ability to give or to take. The reins in the horse's mouth are merely an extension of the whip.

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