Wednesday, December 14, 2011

"How does it feel to not exist?"
I had asked the wind.

Only then did it occur to me that
I no longer cared
How the wind felt.

Friday, December 2, 2011

After a long day
Of nothing, even at work,
I ventured out from my cave
To a friend's place
Where drinking was promised
And I expected nothing more.

And that was surely the extent
But then a presence entered
And the presence guided me onward
Into the night
From situation to situation
Leading me into what became
An unexpected renewal of my core.

I have always been fascinated
By those that move freely
Without a care for prying eyes
Or judgement
Or perhaps even purpose.
People that can sense
What the proper movement is,
And then take it without a second thought.

I do not dance, I watch.
But I can smile like a fool
And bob my head with rhythm.
Usually, that's all that's needed.
But a physical pull into the lava
That is a dance floor
Is not something I have experienced
In the way that I experienced it tonight.
My body went numb with surprise,
Sending me flailing backward toward the wall
Like a rat scurrying back into the darkness
After a floodlight has suddenly spotted it
But I enjoyed the idea
That someone would keep trying.
That the best dancer, in fact,
Would keep trying.

And I don't smoke,
But the nicotine ingested
Was the most worthy I've had
Because it was discovered
That we are people of theory
And while my linguistic obsession
Seems almost common,
Hers is rare and truly beautiful to encounter.
Theory in motion.
Theory in use.

The only other person
I've ever met
Who does not yet have tattoos
Because she's holding out
For who will be able to depict
Her chosen abstract theories
To the best of their abilities.

Shock and awe.
This is a fated friendship.
And I am terribly excited.