inkdrop

i think i have had a latent preoccupation with molding the future. yes, you and i have had nights after nights of conversation, in that little television room by the piano. and you've pointed out bricks at me: the careless pattern on the wall with perforated cement slabs. and you've couched up on your life, your devastations and expectations of the trail of emerging thoughts. moseying around through your personal history, your losses and gains, your vigorous contentions of religion and abortion. i have valued all your thoughts -they've made sense to me. a lot more than i had ever imagined.

i have been up all night listening to that song. the song, that you told me yesterday reminded you of all the times you've given way to your suppressed emotionality. and you've shed pearls of sentiment through the slits of your eyes, heavy with thought and disbelief. but i have loved the way you've brushed aside those moments and moved on. the untiring simplicity with which you've smiled at people, embraced them like you've known them for years. have you ever realized your infectious sense of optimism? i have valued it a lot. and so have a lot of your people, and the womb in which you have twiddled with destiny. single handedly.

you know who you are. don't you?