2001-10-12 || 1:18 p.m. || ride to the airport || 5:30 a.m. and 'you have to kiss me seventeen times before you leave.' 'why seventeen?' 'in case some of them fall off.' i lose count. some are in dreams some i am awake. eyes closed in both cases. i don't see him in darkness. i see airplanes. i see ice crystals in elaborate ancient patterns stitched together to form cold blue sky. i see states interlocking to form continent. one-two-three-four you can skip stones across them really, it isn't far away. it's not the distance, it's the time. and you've been much further. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |