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you say life; live; illustrious; vivacious and above all: alive. i say elevation and a grand sense of self, inflated like a balloon in the air. too good or too bad, i cut the difference with a knife. i am constantly cutting. ties, ribbons, strings of red knotted finger to finger. i know the thick before the slice. i have wanted a vast and varying array of posies set to the fickle background of dandelions; beautiful, but everlasting weeds, roots implanted in the ground, stationary and resolute. but i have seen mountains and i have seen rainbows. i have seen the fog rising from the ground as a steam: blessed from hurricane evacuation route to eruption. i want to see everything and nothing at all. but words are words are words and an eternal blinking cursor is the same as a mouth open o-shaped, gasping for air. fish against a reticent current, forever searching for their niche and the right to process their film wherever there is a darkroom present. |