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By Galadrial Date: 2001 Sep 23 Comment on this Work [[2001.09.23.12.03.27184]] |
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The words flow toward clever, the brains knows the real, and the body accepts the daily indignity that is hurt the price of broken in a way that the crazy glue of medical miracle cannot fix. Yes, I know what is, what can be, and what cannot. But my heart will speak past present future, the language it learned from each stroke. Shaped by the words, by lovers gone on to other lives, the hybrid given to bloom, and blight, perfumed by memory, learned by lesson and sometimes hurt. My heart will speak but goodbye is more oft spoken, more deeply, cutting initials deep in the bark so time will keep the shape so long as the tree stands, and in ten years, or twenty my fingers will trace the form, and find something overgrown, that will still feel and taste like the kiss I asked as coin for my love. |