only the lonely
i am holding everything in my hands. i am seeing huge objects from a distance. often i realize....just taking it all in. sometimes i am so slow, with lobster hands, grasping at this or that. sometimes i am feeble, stubborn, ungracious, thinking god knows who understands my this or that. i think sometimes only you understand me, because when i was young (only you and only then) you could express the thick air that i couldn't break from. this sauna, like a big brown cloud tinting my view, skewing my neighborhood, this thing that words nor big thick books could ever tell. this thing like a loneliness that squeezes tight letting little room for deep breathing. this big black far wide empty that sounds with all its openness like a radiator hummmmm. i am holding everything in my hands. the smiles, the trees, the sorrows, every airplane that flies, and the wish that i could have done something...god, what a big breath i should have taken, what a broad arm i should have reached. but nothing could have held me, nothing could have caught me from the inevitable slip, the wide open fall. in my dream, you knew me. in my dream, you don't have to say anything twice. i know.