It is funny how sometimes when you are thrown a curve ball, which you had no way of anticipating and no idea on how to handle, the body and mind turn mutinous and all that's left is reaction. A moving of the lizard brain deep within. You reach out, swing wildly, and to the utter amazement of nature and all the fates who are watching, make contact. Sometimes that's all a person can hope for, making contact.
It rains lately from 5am until the taillights reflect red off the wet pavement some hours later. The lazy breeze ushers the smell of copper and of cologne through open windows, exposed tenderness. You say the words I never knew were contained within such an unlikely frame. We talk about religion and fate and hope and the youthful optimism of endless possibility. The air is thick with the excitement of what could be, the sometimes perfection of waiting. We carry on even beyond the clock's insistence that it is time to go home, with full hearts to empty houses.
Hang on tightly, let go lightly.
About Me
- porfiry
- The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break, it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure that it will kill you too, but there will be no special hurry.