the new thing in my lifefirst define
what it is not.
blue, purple, a star,
a dandilion. a motive.then, realizing
the universe of nots
is too wide, begin
telling what it is.
A lover. A bit of happiness
and a cat on sun-warmed
pavement. A glowing
rock at the bottom
of a pocket. A cornfield
on an Iowa afternoon.then define
what it will be.
A held hand.
Jasmine in the evening.
A worried face
at a deathbed.
dreaming the bodya key hangs on a peg on the wall;
I take it down, my hands sliding over
worn wood, words half scraped away,
phone numbers from summers years past.
try and find it, the dense silent whisper
comes to my ears. try to call it to you.but calling is never that easy. the lock
is nonexsistent until I imagine it, the metal
fitting nothing but a door created for it.
i weigh the key in my hand, the scratched
and heavy steel, the gravity that tugs at it
and the earth it yearns for.The hands that move me, the motives
I dance to, the lock the key fits,
the selves resplendent in happiness.
It is a river, this emotion; and all
in its path grow more beautiful
and more sane.I raise my hand and summon the lock.
behind the door are other rivers,
other hills, other silver cities.
There is a kitten sitting on my shoulder. She's the kitten of a co-worker, and she's so very, very tiny! awwwwwww.
outside: oh, wow...
doing: ready for dinner
to do: send email
words: Cryptonomicon
energy level (out of ten): 7
