a few moments in free fall

I remember the taste of a kiss, but not the texture. The coffee and cream and Marlboro taste of Nancy. The dry, soft taste of Ann. The sweetness of Dar. Brigit's spiciness, like cinnamon. The hunger of Robin and of Karla (remarkably, they both kissed similarly). Jan was sweet and musky. Something I was unable to define lingered for days on my tongue after Alisha, perhaps jasmine. They are all part of me now, they and others, like pieces of a greater tapestry, threads of myriad lengths and thickness, woven into the pattern that only makes sense if you look at it all at once and from a distance. But then you are too far away to appreciate the texture and complexity.




What is the question to the answers I know? The shell cracks and the essence escapes, life into the air where there is no warmth of sustain and nurture it. A cold horizon cuts back the light to lines and layers not unlike a prism in an airless voic.


Music I am using to manipulate my moods...

just finished Meatloaf's "I Would Do Anything for Love"...now working on "Epitaph" by King Crimson (I do not often enough give Nancy enough credit for refining and expanding my tastes in music). I am not undone, but unravelled, sitting here, trying to tie the loose ends together in some semblance of continuity, like a poem made of fragments, losing their continuity and context.

I'll be back, just braver, and more innocent. The irony is like a soft taste of rose petal ice cream on my tongue, allowed to melt like a kiss between fools.

Listening to Goo Goo Dolls' "Iris" and "Slide"...both remarkably evocative of a time and a place. My lips cry and my eyes dim, as though to anticipate a cold night or a windstorm in sheets of solar brilliance...I am haunted by echoes, but no spirits behind them to bind me to their fates.

I am trapped here, but cannot remember where "here" is...I am in exile from myself. Ah. Now I know.

Eloquence, Beauty, Legendary, Lachrymose. Quintessence. And three satin ribbons tied to a tree on the edge of the desert.

Time to release the serotonin.