touch

sometimes it feels like i can just reach out and hold your heart in the palm of my hand.
and sometimes it feels like running my fingers through lemonade…fizzy and sweet and tingly.
and sometimes it feels like trying to hold on to broken pieces of china as they crack and break and slip out of my hands.

...meh?

I'm having trouble making myself care about anything today. It's weird. Most of my emails are unopened. The paper is unread; online news ditto, and most of my feeds also. The Masters work I was supposed to finish is barely touched. I couldn't read more than a few pages of any of the books I'm reading. Nothing on TV held my gaze, although, well, that's hardly new. And I ignored the phone. It's all kinda meh. Why meh? I'm kinda tired, but not hugely. I hurt an old back injury yesterday, but not massively...there's no good reason to be so flat and blah at the world. Did someone put prozac in my tea?

.......

and then

except then you get there, and you think...okaaayyy...now what?

next?

neruda

When I die, I want your hands on my eyes:

I want the light and the wheat of your beloved hands

to pass their freshness over me once more:

I want to feel the softness that changed my destiny.



I want you to live while I wait for you, asleep.

I want your ears still to hear the wind, I want you

to sniff the sea's aroma that we loved together,

to continue to walk on the sand we walk on.



I want what I love to continue to live,

and you whom I love and sang above everything else

to continue to flourish, full-flowered:



so that you can reach everything my love directs you to,

so that my shadow can travel along in your hair,

so that everything can learn the reason for my song.

running out

i seem to be pouring myself into everybody else right now. it makes any time alone - really alone, doing something for me - seem kinda precious.