2005-01-21 || 2:24 p.m.

|| muscle memory ||

at the end of the night, in the very early morning, after picking him up on the corner, after stopping for whiskys and walking to the bar with him jumping down the sidewalk out of excitement of holding my hand, after kissing him in that context i had sealed up for a long time where he was concerned. after his realization that i was wearing his coat from the time we were living together (i unbuttoned it so that he could see the dirt as proof of his ownership: petaluma-santa-rosa-san francisco) and how it was obviously a magical sign of destiny. after i had turned out the light and counted how many hours i had before i had to wake up for work, we instantly moved into the sleeping position of eight years ago. you face this way and i put my arm around you; one arm over pillows one arm under legs arranged like so. it was instinctive. it was that one part that made me certain; the confirmation that a point in the past can indeed be pulled like a loose stitch and placed into the present so that the line runs along, patchworked and ramshackle, but moving along nonetheless.

ps. i took out the part about the whales and albatrosses. it just sounded weird.

previous || next || random

guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land

Site Meter