it's 10:11 pm, on April 30, 2007 - pavement.

~

I have forgotten what it was like to actually write poetry, or even poetic prose. more, I have forgotten how to actually write poetry. it takes a-- a fearlessness of spirit, an unselfconsious dive, to be able to do it.

Elsewhere, I said that you just believe in something and make it work. but when you don't have the capacity anymore, then what?

So this is what I think love is: a complicated
and messy accident, happening in little ways to us
every day.
You, and you, and that movie on the train,
and his messy apartment, they're all
little accidents
falling into my life, but
I'd never say they stood for love
or even a piece of it.

Those things are the wet pavement on which you find yourself,
not the fall.

~

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what would sith be nostalgic about anyway - November 24, 2015
moving truck dilemma - October 28, 2015
- - July 19, 2015
- - July 01, 2015
bruise - June 29, 2015

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