such great heights at three.
yeh.
it’s good.
takes the edge off the fact that i am positively petrified of zero eight.
tell me i’m not the only one dithering at the brink of a new year.
such great heights at three.
yeh.
it’s good.
takes the edge off the fact that i am positively petrified of zero eight.
tell me i’m not the only one dithering at the brink of a new year.
midnight blue against orange.
and we danced into a yellow lit night.
take a breath and hold on tight.
maybe you can help me dream a little.
***
i’ve stopped writing for you. call it lack of inspiration, or really, just fear.
that pages may end, fullstops may mark epilogues, books in boxes may signify conclusion.
subconscious numerical initiations are inevitable, but know we’re never so far away that we’d forget.
it’s gonna take a heckuva lot more to prove just about anything.
cos, news flash. we run a tight ship around here.
how do i tell you that i’m happysad for you? or that i feel like i’ve lost a limb. or that no matter what you say, things will be, have to be, different around here. or that already, i am peeling away from that strange, but now marked familiarity. or that i know you know how i will be, simply because you see me so well. or that a phone call won’t be as simple as before. or that invisible lines have been permanently etched. or that being a part of your joy was the most painful thing. or that hearing that last sentence before you drove off made me want to turn away because it was true.
but then.
you probably know all this already.
today, i took a walk in your shoes and realised with utmost clarity what it meant to be you.
and it made me think i could be strong for you too.
complement each other like colours.
curling up with familiarity across atlantic, i listen and savour versant inflections.
nine more days.
so close your eyes
into another day.
Epilogue in black&white,
hold still, you’ll be fine,
you’ll be fine.
rouge-dreams radiate fiction.
or so it seems.
you never can tell anymore.
***
ten+five.
isn’t so very far away.
***
cross atlantic conversations and promises to keep each other company in prison.
*grin*
may i suggest bringing a blankey with you when you sneak into cargo?
imissyou derrickchanbigguy!