Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Note to K

Here I want to slip in the doubt that happiness might not be that light after all,even though its effects are; that happiness is perhaps beyond words, deeper than its adversary. It's not for poets to display their mastery over expression. It is not for the heart, if it exists. It is for the hapless and the hopeless to marvel at a cable bridge braiding itself outward, taking the threads from within, perhaps the heart, perchance the entrails...
stringing... one with the other

floating..swaying, braiding still

building on.


And having written thus, I stare at the words and wonder "Well then, that's what growing up feels like".

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