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danne |
Saturday, February 16, 2008
say nothing at all •
these are those times when, while pushing everything away, clearing the mind and soul with city breezes and urban garden walks, gently crowded streets mildly bricked, cobbled and paved with palms walks. something persists, in a way that rattles my insides quietly so loud that i'm shaking and my breath becomes irregular, but it's a warm sort of pseudo-darling annoyingness that's pouting on the line that brings it over to unbearable heat, heat that makes my vision noisy and consumes the inside, with every involuntary recollection. i won't ask what i don't want to know for sure.i'll do my assignments and my richard gere innocent glance-about whenever you want me to, but i just don't have the propensity for small talk. that sort of daily comfort only comes when it's just that, close and true. then it looses the frivolity and becomes enduring, endearing concern, don't you think? hahhahaha. but it's pretty much beside the point, isn't it. this whole thing makes me feel ill at ease(euphemism), you make me feel ill at ease, haha. how's that for a dilemma. in other news. i'll count the years while they're young, because it's the thing to do. and my tick-tock clockwork soul does it for me anyway, like the fingers on your timeless tender hands. counting the occasions off one by one, happy birthday to this memory, heart's transparent pillory through the times and looks that mean nothing at all.  lying on the crossbar of the playground swings in the dark of the early morning, with you going up and down below like you're sleepily encouraging the sun to rise, so we can get up and walk slowly back to the house and crumpled cottony sheets of warm, embracing air. facing away from the ocean because, gosh, it isn't really there for us with it's ups and it's outs, it's got more in its foamy arms than wet crumbly sands can caress the soles of her tanned, supple footprints. walk away, very, very slowly. this is where we don't go, keep to the grass and lined pathways out and away from you. the sea, she's got other shores she teases when it so pleases, her; try to let this knowledge ease your paiiiiin. yellow breezes blowing the isles farther and farther away. Music:Plain White T's - Hate (I Really Don't Like You) 11:53 pm |