innocent bystander //a weblog

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Saturday, February 07, 2004

9:17 AM: Worry Triptych


this is a worry triptych, in case i've been a loon and a gel and have been seeing everything wrong the whole time:

maybe i hate you,
and i hate your eyes that told the half-truths,
eyes that baited me until i fell,
planted a hope when there was no soil there
maybe i mourn the loss of my escape route,
my underground railroad,
my way out from these four things--
the hatred, the annihilation, the soul assassination
plots carried out each night at home
i don't know who you are anymore,
trustworthy or treacherous,
ally or enemy,
tender or indifferent
and if you were to be indifferent,
my hopes collapse--
it is the worst possibility of all.

and if you were to be indifferent,
i guess i tried it all for nothing
loving you already, caring
waiting and holding
my emotions, the exertions, my own tribulations,
hiding my excitement whenever we met,
hiding my hope
beginning to dream your dreams and love your loves,
now i hate your dreams and hate your loves
i thought there was friendship between us--
don't you know that friendship with flirting is something else?
i thought there was justification for me to share, to hold you dear
you were dear and are dear and i'm all messed up,
the nursing calf gets her mother taken away; surprise!
your mother is for someone else
your eyes are for someone else,
not me

joseph was
lily white,
beautiful (need i say?)
his nut-brown hair
swept a forehead
and touched his temple
where i'd like to have touched
his wrists were delicate
he was graceful when
he thought nobody looking
and as he strode,
you could see his pride
he knew who he might be.
he would cluck quietly,
i think it was an aptitude
for animal husbandry,
maybe human,
and his eyes,
i don't remember anything about them,
except they took away my will.

Friday, February 06, 2004

1:54 AM: Terminus Est

i had been reading margaret atwood's the edible woman, but then a metafilter thread convinced me to pick up the gene wolfe book that had been sitting in the hallway of my house forever. it was my sister's, but she buys truckloads of books every year, and they tend to make only a vague impression on her. it was two books in one: the shadow of the torturer and the claw of the conciliator. i'm 75 or 100 pages in, and i'm hooked; i'm a believer! whenever i put it down i linger in a haze of autarchs, arcane guilds, and swords with names: terminus est. it's amazing. over the years, i'd subconsciously become convinced that i would never fall so deeply into a book again, that maybe even my ability to be so taken had faded away as i'd grown up. not so! i'm glad.

1:40 AM: Always...

those who prospect
learn to expect

Thursday, February 05, 2004

2:13 PM: 'S Wierd...

it's wierd, for whatever godforsaken reason i pulled out boys for pele and played it just now... and remembered a whole lot of horrible stuff i lived through once. ouch. it hurt. and now i've got to suck it up, and breathe deep, and go face the day. gotta remind myself-- it's all gone now. we've accepted and forgiven it away. we've got a nice warm blanket and a hot cocoa for our hurt inner child, and mommy's here to keep the demons away. things don't hurt us so deep down anymore. gotta remember. maybe i'll sell that album.

Tuesday, February 03, 2004

1:21 AM: Sososo...

what kind of guy has a favorite flower? i dunno, but if he can't match his shirts to his ties, i feel safe saying he isn't gay. ow! am i bad?

Sunday, February 01, 2004

8:54 AM: In This

in this incarnation, i am neither fast nor bold. i am small and poor. i'm letting the world use me, as a note at temple told me to do. all we can do is keep our hearts pure...

i have slept around. i have slept with people on the second date, i think, although never on the first. but today i am crawling, and have crawled, on my belly on the ground, slowly and pitifully (or so it would seem to others) just like the taoists tell you to do. i have been working with him for three months now. we flirt and we don't flirt, as we try to hide our interest. we collide and dissipate, like stormclouds. we went hiking yesterday-- we were alone for hours, and we didn't touch (but barely!)-- didn't kiss. when i turned to the passenger side to let him out of my car i could have died of desire if i let myself, but i just clasped both hands in my lap and smiled. on the way back home some ancient core in my mind said, you've been bolder, you've been bolder! you have snuck out afternoons when you were sixteen and done things that would terrify him.

and that is the point.

i didn't learn of his body, but i learned more about his heart and mind. this morning i woke up from hazy dreams of him and of my last ex-boyfriend. i think my subconscious is comparing the two. thinking of them, i do get some useful information. i can't find my hairbrush, so i run my fingers through my hair and wash my face. i'll brush my teeth after breakfast. here at my desk i realize i can still just taste him from the water bottle we shared. in a part of my mind, my primitive self sets up a clatter.


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