Friday, November 04, 2005
On (the Moment of) You
There was a moment when a hollowed etheral image
scorched deep into my holgraphic concept imagination :
by not speaking so many oral oddities of conversation
I could not equally express my greeting card esque regards.
Accessible modes of communication have been briefly shutdown
put on hold until I can concieve an available moment,
mental facilities are not quite up to a reaction.
My intentions are ad hoc in virtue,
actions however are never quite concievable
without pure unadultered contact.
Flash memory bulbs crackle in a neon explosion
when I read your letters, but dialing your number
was never an admission of guilt I wanted to take on.
Ancipation of tangled lives intersecting gambling in chance
a game that had been lost to darker souls indeed.
This context left me numb as the assetts of physical touch
drifted further and further apart, using a metaphor of ships.
Missing a set of eyes to roll at me I wish you were with me.
Our conversation questioning on bordering issues
an affinity for one another we could never quite get past.
I held you in a moment and I miss your touch, after every rationalization
after every conversation, after every misinterpretation
the regard I held you in never waivered. My confidence could not grasp you.
Is this an admission of guilt or just a transgression into something deep, please decide.
I could stutter over everything I had to communicate, yet you always knew.
The horror yet pleasure of being known by someone
greater than you could know your self.
The guilt in wanting to return the favor : wanted to grasp your complexity
to embrace you (like the way a trumpet grasps a note).
Holding through the blue times, through the melody, rhythm of ours could collide
and in intervals it surely did.
Only in so many degrees of seperation could this be anything else
pushing a barrier we both had programmed in : why is this so hard to accept.
I basked in your being every moment, secure or not I held everything I could ever do
while your lips left an impression that I would never ever slip away from.
I never had so many words for someone
that I just could not get out in this language
or any language that required movement of the mouth.
The jaw bone rubbed up against
the back of my cheek brushing pink fleshy substance
no hesitation but more of a regret of doing things
the way others would not have possibly chosen.
To rip out everything in bouts of insecurties, to cross up the words better left unsaid
to pour out my being and place in the table one too many moments,
but I cannot go a day or a hour or a minute without sharing a piece
of what you gave to me.
I cannot get over your being, the strongest I ever shared a prescence with
captivate me more and more, even feeling surreal to bask in your smile
melt me into a substance to be a part of a universe that could mix together
I want your substance continually : the flow of information
cross my data base until my memory is crunched together.
Blurring a line between our balance of equity and rationality until it no longer mattered.
scorched deep into my holgraphic concept imagination :
by not speaking so many oral oddities of conversation
I could not equally express my greeting card esque regards.
Accessible modes of communication have been briefly shutdown
put on hold until I can concieve an available moment,
mental facilities are not quite up to a reaction.
My intentions are ad hoc in virtue,
actions however are never quite concievable
without pure unadultered contact.
Flash memory bulbs crackle in a neon explosion
when I read your letters, but dialing your number
was never an admission of guilt I wanted to take on.
Ancipation of tangled lives intersecting gambling in chance
a game that had been lost to darker souls indeed.
This context left me numb as the assetts of physical touch
drifted further and further apart, using a metaphor of ships.
Missing a set of eyes to roll at me I wish you were with me.
Our conversation questioning on bordering issues
an affinity for one another we could never quite get past.
I held you in a moment and I miss your touch, after every rationalization
after every conversation, after every misinterpretation
the regard I held you in never waivered. My confidence could not grasp you.
Is this an admission of guilt or just a transgression into something deep, please decide.
I could stutter over everything I had to communicate, yet you always knew.
The horror yet pleasure of being known by someone
greater than you could know your self.
The guilt in wanting to return the favor : wanted to grasp your complexity
to embrace you (like the way a trumpet grasps a note).
Holding through the blue times, through the melody, rhythm of ours could collide
and in intervals it surely did.
Only in so many degrees of seperation could this be anything else
pushing a barrier we both had programmed in : why is this so hard to accept.
I basked in your being every moment, secure or not I held everything I could ever do
while your lips left an impression that I would never ever slip away from.
I never had so many words for someone
that I just could not get out in this language
or any language that required movement of the mouth.
The jaw bone rubbed up against
the back of my cheek brushing pink fleshy substance
no hesitation but more of a regret of doing things
the way others would not have possibly chosen.
To rip out everything in bouts of insecurties, to cross up the words better left unsaid
to pour out my being and place in the table one too many moments,
but I cannot go a day or a hour or a minute without sharing a piece
of what you gave to me.
I cannot get over your being, the strongest I ever shared a prescence with
captivate me more and more, even feeling surreal to bask in your smile
melt me into a substance to be a part of a universe that could mix together
I want your substance continually : the flow of information
cross my data base until my memory is crunched together.
Blurring a line between our balance of equity and rationality until it no longer mattered.
