this connection to me is too strong to turn away from, although i easily turned away from it in libra. little things make me realise the strength of this connection, traces of love in physical, mental, and imaginary spaces. reminds me that i’m not broken, that there’s plenty in me to give. i hear it in voice.
“don’t worry. i got you.”
and then the upset.
“you should have come here first.”
weapons of mass distraction. i want to elevate, rise between this tugging-of-war, between one, another, and an intangible, unknown third. instead, i hide in a cubby hole, watching. it’s time to make a decision that involves severing. this isn’t fair on me, or the first. but in good news, i can still put the wellbeing of another before mine.
follow the signs, love. especially the one that says “OUTSIDE”.
whatever happened to care of Self? not that i’m being threatened, damaged. still (guy. from time). but… the guardian’s safety. and the conflict set up by both interpretations of that last sentence is what makes me hesitate. learning moment: i may be safe for you while you’re unsafe for me. you may be unsafe for me when i’m safe for you.
i know you’re reading this. i know you know it’s you. and i know you’re not trusting. i know. i was there, at another time.
i leave the miniature where i find it, so i can smile again later, feel the love. you can’t help yourself, can you? i’ll hold on to the sacred. so i still get to see the crinkles around those eyes. so we still get to save grace.
i’m breaking the sacrament. your confession: you want the same as me.
but i’ll tell you the same thing i said in extended play. it’s time for another cobblestoned sunrise. you dig, you down? (reminder – please send postcard moments). the trips explain the future. again, we’re connected by the tracks.
no one knows my inner mind like you do. summer projectin’ polymekanos. my deck or yours? sonny and cher.
James Joyce was a synthesizer, trying to bring in as much as he could. I am an analyzer, trying to leave out as much as I can.