(that figures. it always does. boils down to that. this, another busy week. i do that intentionally. work, and tire myself from it. i miss my peace and quiet so i needed some break from my cyber life. that's all. and didn't i tell ... November, something about November ... season after Halloween ... jusz before Supremo's ... hearts get broken. )
These, my fave from a place, of Poetry Renaissance. Telling me, clearly, to my face, when we do, yes we do, count years, age by the day, but, some things just never will change. Oh, tear ...
"This is the terminal, the break.
Beyond this point, on lines of air,
You take the way that you must take;
And I remain in light and stare-
In light, and nothing else, awake."
ywinters*
... my other garden ;)
About Me
- Irma
- I'm not a graceful person. I'm not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2AM, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.
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