Aug 07, 2004 01:39
Quiet now, noise maker. Your glance is loud enough and it pains me endearingly. Red and knitted, serving no purpose. Serving my cripple. I watch silent rhythms move your bones. Art unlike your own. You are everyone now. I saw you how I feel you. But even demons can fly. If I could sit in a corner, behind nothing, I would watch with courage from far, far away. And think about you. Cos I don't want you to, I just need to know you that you want to. I would watch you like a masterpiece on the walls. I hate walls. Always in my face. I would remove your color, and see you purely in the base coat. Black and white. Because I saw you how I feel you. But even demons can fly.
scream.
Does this count as my long term memory? To remember someone from months ago? Why have I stored this information in my brain so deeply that I cannot seem to feign from it? Why is he everyone? I don't even know everyone, or think everyone resembles him. Oh, yes they do. This is stupid.
I saw him again tonight. In Arizona where he does not live. Oh, but he was there. No it was really him this time. He was wearing those brown pants, that striped sweater and that beanie cap to cover the dreads that he does not have. I saw him alright. I saw him turn from his circle of intelligent wine tongues and greet me. He taught me the artists visions inside each piece. He was there. No one else noticed.