upload : 2007_01_09
2007_01_05
When will be the next time
we get to contribute all at once
to the same frequency of laughter, like pain.
Life hurt so good our chorus sounded
cacophonous to those outside our karmic ensemble
who could not appreciate or decode or dance to.
My visit this time was rhythmic, soft and perfect.
But time dies
and returns to here are always
followed by returns to there.
And I left wanting to whisper
in all of your ears how much I loved
you and will miss you,
but the latter part of the thought
overwhelmed me so much
that I opted for the close beating
of my heart to yours as we embraced
to speak softly what I wasn't brave enough to say.
My eyes were soaked with the hope that
one day we will sit next to each other again
in a restaurant decorated with dark wooden décor
dimly bathed in candlelight,
or near a dumpster behind a Chinese fast food joint,
or on a grassy lump of land near familiar grave stones
and we'll remember again the times
before we had to miss each other.
And we'll tell the old stories
as well as the new ones,
of the turbulent periods and the innocent plunders,
and reacquaint ourselves with the timeless
tales of losing, leaving, and being left alone.
And we'll laugh at it all again
and at ourselves
for being too dramatic
and for living too seriously.
And even if we cry
the tears will fall and pluck
the steady stream of wind that blows
through the spaces that separate us
to make the beats that form the base
of our frequency
as we resonate again.
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