a day late...
second international freedom festival and oh, the things/people/music to do/see/hear...
all in a day that's been led up to by almost 11,000 others
still vivid in my mind's eye...
oldest friend moving away (farther away)
sadly, i've not seen him in so long and now the distance that has served as my excuse is increasing by more than i care to imagine. what an ache it is to miss someone.
distant friend drawing nearer
i'd not known he was away for so long...
someone who was, at one time, one of my greatest friends. we'd lost touch, then exchanged numbers on meeting again, each promising to call the other and each failing to do so.
strange how four years is so little and so much.
we again exchanged numbers. i fully expect not to see or hear from him, with a mutual fault, until we happen upon each other years from now.
and the circle will begin again.
old love appearing like just a taste of an addiction forgotten
he is still very beautiful, still melts my heart.
and he is still poison, best avoided...
but i lie through smiling lips--of course i'll call, darling
and more eyes, mouths, hands and memories floating past, coming close
for those beings i saw today, each was an inner smile, tear and bitter taste--
none forgotten. never, no.
then home...
a bit of wine still blurring my thoughts into lovely somethings.
mm-hm, yes--i've been in the wine again.
and her, strange and beautiful...
matching henna on our hands (can i have this in school?)
quietquietquiet & then discovered.
you can come in, she said, but put on sparkles first.
and then when the door opens, darkness--with her swirly light thing on a suitcase, throwing rainbows...
her in glitter and blue eyeshadow with flowers pinned in her hair
her hair damp at the back of her neck from her singing and dancing
her singingsubconsciously low at first, then with full energy
and dancing arms swaying in the air, except to brush back the hair clinging to her face
she sat so still for so long today--for matching mendhi. curious poppet, she gives me unspeakable joy. i want to spoonfeed her bits of the world but she wants, already, to devour it whole. so i wait, fully expecting that she can fly, but waiting to catch her in cupped hands when she flutters down.
and now...
a caterpillar on the glass door--such an interesting looking fellow. i'm off to have tea with him and gaze in wonderment and contemplation of the universe presented in my corner, here.