the memory of you
next to me on the cliff above the Pacific
so cold and misty
looking down at the swelling, swirling wet
crashing on rocks
I thought
about the future and change
about dancing with you to the tin tune of the grinder's organ
not caring who was watching or that I did not know the steps
I thought
if I jumped I would end first, before our love
I would end embraced in this moment where
you loved me and I loved you
before everything changed.
You asked what I was thinking
I smiled.
I shook my head and took your hand
and we walked down to get soup and hot coffee
and slowly, ever so slowly
after that day
everything changed
An idiosyncratic and non sequitorial examination of the contents of one head.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
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