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forgetting 5:51 p.m. 2007-05-07 We never had any meaning to comfort these lonely drywall confines and we never bothered to drift silent through starfire lullabies that stain porcelain and lace with tints of glass and haloes of understanding. I never held the fabric in the lilt of my fingers just to feel it slide watersmooth and transient across my flesh and i regret all the possibilities that spilt raindrop-evaporation along with it. And sometimes people forget to play connect the dots with running lights tracing the patterns in the road on either side and we reminisce over constellations in brake lights and all the other beautiful things we've forgotten to see. And i no longer hold gilded steel clutched to my breast like hammers or knives to worship the shape of man's tools in men's hands and my fingernails have forgotten the significance of tending to candlelight and wax. So we look to the sky and whisper resentment at unnamed fortresses of that outofreach divinity we tangled up in our childhood and never sorted out. And sometimes we forget what it means when it rains. back & forth |