one day or another as well to remember or forget
understand or completely ignore, and the pages
reveal a life past colorful as a summer landscape,
came as easy as it went and as slippery
a slow retelling of the old stories, dates change
until things are so far away as to seem foreign
some one else, another time, and yet the memory
of ancestors that calls like a wave in the ocean
or a desert with very familiar dunes and a dèja
vu, inexplicable events and behavior that seem
preordained- a strong feeling forgets- a lot of words
to simply say I feel lonely or I miss love and remember
how sweet it once was. Sounds any more beautiful?
is an irrelevant question - words are not the same
like feelings and thoughts are not the same and
that there is no arguing about. Ni caso que tiene.
Earthworms flood the neighborhood when it rains.
And I hate earthworms And I'm not crazy about the 'hood.
Though I must admit I love the rain & rainy days.
Not one drop wasted. 5 May 2004 11:41PM NYC
Pain on rocks. feelings as nature. it is hard.
it is hard to live. like a friday fucking afternoon.
and stressful. wet rocks velvet revolver or guns 'n roses
rain so wet. rock so hard.
words write a feel representation- a dance of imagination
with desires and thoughts. words remember what is easy
forgets what is hard. words constan are witness and
pages are canvas. words are bodies in intercourse, page is a bed
page is your face when you discover these words anew... surprise
© 2004 Eduardo De León
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