Sinuosity
You can hold her but you can't stop her, own her, possess her, but you have to know she'll run on you like a child when you let go of its hand and you wonder, how did she get over there so fast, god damn I have to watch closer, hold on tighter. She's like holding onto water, go ahead make a fist, see where she goes. You don't want her to run out there where the traffic is but you look around she's gone and you yell, hey, baby, watch out, but how do you know what it feels like to have your hair whipped around by the passing cars and those big fucking scary trucks and only be inches away from thrilling terror if you don't play out in the traffic? She will love you, she loves with a gripping passion that you want to squeeze, fold, put in your pocket, fucking save it's so succulent and sweet, it's fiery hot and life giving. She does that, gives you life. She never has enough, never gets enough, like that child breaking free, fuck the world is out there, you're on your ass with the remote, bye bye.
You want to hold her back, say no, be careful. It won't go that way. You could stand on the tracks, hold your arms up, yeah, stop the train. Be best to just get out of the way and watch the headlight on a northbound train disappear around the bend. There'll be a whistle too, but only you can hear it. She'll be back. She always comes back with that fierce sense of loyalty she has, too loyal, but I love the fierce. She is so simply complexly complicated that you feel dizzy around her like when you spin and then try to take off in a straight line and fall all over yourself....directionless, not knowing which way is up.
You try to change her you lose her. You say, where'd she go. You aren't paying attention. She is sinuous, seeking life, like rushing powerful water creates a serpentine canyon. The water came first, you're just the canyon. You let her course, she'll make you beautiful like that canyon. Your demand for straight lines will still her, be her ruination, then yours. There is a reason ponds go stagnant.
The more you let her be, her, the more of her you'll have. Be content with what you can hold and patient with what you can't.
It's how I love her this much.
It's worth the hurt, hers and mine.
You want to hold her back, say no, be careful. It won't go that way. You could stand on the tracks, hold your arms up, yeah, stop the train. Be best to just get out of the way and watch the headlight on a northbound train disappear around the bend. There'll be a whistle too, but only you can hear it. She'll be back. She always comes back with that fierce sense of loyalty she has, too loyal, but I love the fierce. She is so simply complexly complicated that you feel dizzy around her like when you spin and then try to take off in a straight line and fall all over yourself....directionless, not knowing which way is up.
You try to change her you lose her. You say, where'd she go. You aren't paying attention. She is sinuous, seeking life, like rushing powerful water creates a serpentine canyon. The water came first, you're just the canyon. You let her course, she'll make you beautiful like that canyon. Your demand for straight lines will still her, be her ruination, then yours. There is a reason ponds go stagnant.
The more you let her be, her, the more of her you'll have. Be content with what you can hold and patient with what you can't.
It's how I love her this much.
It's worth the hurt, hers and mine.
posted by Edge | 7:23 PM
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