Sunday, November 17, 2013

set on you

Hey, you! Do you read my blog? I think you might, sometimes. I wonder if you do because I wonder about you. I wonder if you wonder about me. I wonder if you wonder what it would be like if we met up again and started all over again and tried to hold hands this time and maybe make it a point to pack up and head up to the woods where you will cut down the necessary tree so we can stay warm while we fry our fish and watch the stars dance across an open sky. I wonder if you'll find a feather for me. Didn't we promise each other feathers? Didn't we figure we'd figure into each other's lives somehow? I want it to somehow happen so suddenly, but naturally. I am going to scare you away again. You've left.

And what's left is almost nothing that is right. We can't begin to explain why the horizon looks that way except to say it is flat and will return. Each night we hold our breaths as the death of the sun leaves us mourning. And then we awake, and then we wonder at the stretch of time before us, where we fill in what we can't kill.

You feel, you fill. I am here empty waiting for an eclipse.

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