A lover of language and yet I know that what flows through my arteries and spills into the river of my veins could never be done justice by these clusters of shapes and sounds. Nothing I try to form will ever quite reach the truth of it.
Do I move to a different sound?
Maybe the waves and beats can crash and thrash their way toward expressing my heart in its truest form.
Because I can feel my whole body tingling, surging with not just a love, but an energy that feels constantly renewed every day. Maybe that is what happens when you feel lucky and grateful to have something, that every day it feels new and your heart keeps finding more avenues and ways to wrap itself around it.
These jumble of words aren’t just about one thing, they are about everything. Everything reflected in the hazel planetary madness of another pair of eyes, eyes that catch and flicker to shades of green when the stars and planets glide and align at the right moment. Everything pressing so insistently against the skin that it begins to stream out of the eyes.
This is about everything and in some ways it’s about nothing. The nothingness that my heart will never feel again.
How sweet is this night.
Forever remembered by my heart.
And these words that will never be enough.
termites of the page 