Reaching out beyond the dream of what you thought was real, spinning on this ball of life, head now under heel. Ready to die, to live this life so raw, alive on ledge- dancing, hurling, freeing your soul to finally stretch the edge.

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Breath of fresh air

It's hard to look at anything when you're standing in a thick fog. It hovers, quenches, engulfs and blinds you so that what you have left, is only to feel. Love is a lot like that.

Staring into the sun we can no longer see anything but light. Feeling my sight,  or what I think I see, fading away - I realize that love is a lot like that.

In last week's dream I was falling endlessly. I never hit the bottom of anything so I gave in to the sensation and just fell, enjoying the rush. Knowing that I could not be hurt I wondered if real love was like that.

Yesterday I watched from the safety behind the glass, how the wind whisked away the branches, the dust, the leaves and the flowers. It rearranged hair and clothes, as shrieks of uncertain delight rang from the lungs of the innocents. I found myself yearning for love to sweep me away-just like that.

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