|
"In
the deepest red of my heart, where no wind passes through and
the flame of times gone burns undisturbed, a steady sweep of strings
build to a crescendo and lift images of love and intimacy to the
surface. On the outside, these notes build to a waterfall of memories
that dampen my cheeks and fall down to infinity."
|
"I
remember how hard it was to take her home. Every moment with her
was not enough, and it felt like she was physically tearing away
from me when I dropped her off at her apartment. The feeling started
about a half a block away from my house, when we reached the traffic
light. When she got out of the car and walked away, I looked at
her and started missing her already, even though I knew she'd
probably call me to say good night."
|
|
"I
look across the table to the one I love.
S:
Who are you?
M: You don't know me?
S: I'm afraid I don't.
M: You do know...everything about me...and yet at the same
time you know nothing.
S: What would you mean by that?
M: You know who I am, but you do not know where, for we have never
stood face to face.
S: Where can I find you?
M: You can't. I will find you.
S: I want to...I'm so confused.
M: I know. I understand. Our moment cannot be rushed - it must
come as natural as wind.
S: Are you gonna talk like this when we meet?
M: No, not really.
S: My heart gets so sick waiting for you. Is there anything
I can do?
M: You can pass the time collecting yourself. I need you to be
real.
S: So do I, muse.
M: Our hearts are thus synchronized.
S: Synchronicity."
|