Life has made a nasty face at me. The dank atmosphere quietly corrosive. I used to meet boys with all of my soul in my eyes. I used to meet all of it that way. The optimism of a now withered youth. If I had some indication of even a change in direction, I could better endure. I would welcome any diversion from my own thoughts; a reprieve to pour some kind of spirit back into me. The sun has the audacity to pierce the comforting gloom. I want to draw the shades against it. I only feel right in darkness.
His loneliness
matches mine. It’s a mournful dance. Both of us are creatures of charm and
playfulness as well as dark blue tears. He’s looking for solace from lost success
as am I, but I have also lost my trust in the future. There is no shortage of helpful advice on cures. The mortal
bacterium is in my blood. Only god can make alterations. I'm waiting. Waiting
with him takes the sting out of it.
The black tulip
is light in my hand. I hardly notice it. There will be an unremembered moment
when I've put it down. But for now, I am enthralled in its beauty, helpless in
its unhappiness.
