Standing by the open screen on the second story of my little place, breathing in the Baltimore air with "thunder only happens when it's raininggggg" playing over the whoosh of cars and the sun setting - won't be home for long. Won't be long before there's summer - slow, hot sweat dripping down the center bony line down my chest, straight down… like it was the other night. When it just was, we were playing that same tired old game of not saying anything at all. Been so long since we said anything of souls and spirits, any of us that is. Rather stay in the momentum of our generation - with you remembering lines over all the parts of me again. Rather have not known, but now we know.
The rain coming later tonight and it feels inside, greater than the night just closed - it feels like the grasses even, are reaching up in slow unawakening, and stretching in quietly openmouthed yearning for the thirst. Taking action in their next action - in it grows only more. For the knowledge of the rain and the caress of every bead of warm chilling dew after a long winter's wait - builds only desire for the next. And after the long winter - we've come blinking outside as strangers. I'm a stranger to myself, and she seems so strange to know, like all of that. Wonder if any lover or friend, they're always claiming to be both, has known the pattern of the outstretched beating of my heart - besides the pulse it gives to him as he goes faster. But still it gives in that, arch your head back and gasp - place of quickening song. Faster we're burning through our youth in sprints and halts. Halting entanglements. Get lost in the spell of crackling the incense lit…and let it fill the emptying room. The drapes and trinkets all packed up - allowing the ghost to play rhythms against the little bits of lights, the songs it knew - reminding me it's time to move. So move on.
We move in spring. We make the left or right decisions that last the year through - we begin the things that in autumn's glowing light - feel so faraway and so fundamental. How many times we've made the last decision, the final break - the eternal coming together, cause this time it will grow in botanical curves and BE. This time everything will just follow in a line to the oceans of our memories and see? how you'll seem to have made sense in wandering. Hoping our best darling is waiting there. Everyone has a best.
Best of everything is yet to come. As I sleep tonight it'll flutter over eyelashes and then walls and trees, across the secrets webbing together the next great wonderful big story to tell. The raucous time in the funny youth, that oh… what we would give to give again. Give into me and how you'll see…we'll see whats buried deep beneath a foundation you can really quake and crumble and dance along the cracks it forms… happiness is there. That's happiness. Summer and the end of circles around the town.
. . .
