Tuesday, September 9, 2008
WORDS
You said that maybe I should stay close because when I am, it makes you want to write...
Don't you know that I cannot have you any nearer than when I hold you in my thoughts... that I cannot hold you any closer than when I keep you in my heart?
When you write... when I read what you write... there's a settling that happens in me that tastes so much like peace. And if there is certainty in contentment, if it wasn't the ethereal notion that it is, or if it didn't elude our discernment with such furtiveness, there would be that, too. Your words touch me like nothing ever has before. I can lose myself in them and just as you would not want to breathe out again, I am hoping never to be found.
You said that I am your muse...
That is flattering, but not necessarily a happy thought. Muses come and go and when they go, they are gone a long time.
I don't want to be.
I'd like to be here... for you.
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2 comments:
Being. Without Wanting.
I ended up watching tv last night, on account of the computer being abused by a coupla someone elses in the house, and I luck-ed on Billy Crystal's and Meg Ryan's "When Harry Met Sally".
I went to sleep with the thought that there are friendships that require no further experimentations, and most constraints, and most complications, only materialize when one fails to recognize a good and lovely thing already in hand and blindly and greedily reaches for more.
A toast to what we both already have.
Exactly. :)
I have been battling to write that email... there are so many things and not so many words... hence the procrastination. And I can only smile in acknowledgment of what and how you, yet again, saw right through me, and stated them simply as such. And now everything that threatened to cloud over what brought a sometime sunshine to my days is held back, staved in, even.
The concept of compartmentalizing myself, and my life, is too urban and too sophisticated for me. I will never be able to do that and I don't think I will mature enough to understand it. What I know, what I believe in, is that love integrates, and I will always be the same old me, no matter who or what situation I face. Whatever love I have, for you or for any other, is something you could pick up on as needed, as wanted. It will never be in your way, or in anybody else's.
This is all I've got. This is all I am. I have no pretenses, and I have no illusions. I have always held the notion that this might be as good as it gets.
And I have always been thankful for it.
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