About Which One Collects Facts It Remains Beyond Them-Nox
- For Fellas, For Ladies
Why was it writing? Because sometimes you have to write the words to believe them. Breathe them. I wrote on the steps today, temporary. Next to the waterfall. With the noisy bubbles in the center. Doing the exercise of the everlong sentence. "Her life was hell sometimes flipping like a fish I got used to it she lost her fear and started to live. -Anne Carson, Nox. It's all only for now, and if so, what's the rush? Sometimes there are no words, and those are the times when something has happened in me. Apply sleep and denial. I'm so off. Like the wreckage I hear of regret, raspy and slow in his silence. He says, "What if he stops loving you before I do?" "Amazing," I said, "all out of the blue and yellow, you're just amazing." [I can't hear him respond much, I'm too filled up with noiseless kisses and ideas of soon. When my love comes home I could just bloom. That, and the orgasms are like magical realism.] "I'm hanging up now." "Good." I say. "I was just checking on you." "I know." And then the silence comes into my waterfall, slowly again the bubbles. And I wonder, if I collect anything from him.
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