She hid her head under the covers, creating another illusion of safety. I’d like to tell you…it doesn’t matter. Why do my thoughts keep moving backwards, dwelling on places I thought I’d managed
to escape from?
Worship of the Unreachable never ends. Without it, our bodies
would grow cold, our minds would become sterile. For everything
you seek but cannot touch, imagination conjures a million different depictions of attainment. What you manage to get hold of leaves you tired and insatiable.
Yet you’re a part of this as much as I am. Not letting the flame become a fire, whilst making sure it’s kept alive. Discreet
reminders. Every now and then. So that you, too, are caught in the web. I’ve come to believe you never meant to hurt anyone. You
were just carelessly pulling strings, like a child lured by the arcane mechanics of a toy-car.
You set the rules of the game. I follow course. Torturing myself. With bittersweet droplets of hope. Writing it all here, taking the risk, so that you might find out and back away. In fear, repulsion or indifference? I do not really wish to know.
What will it lead us to? Not much, I’d say. Time will take its toll, healing wounds, replacing old disappointments with fresh ones.
Little of you and I will remain in the realm of memories.
There was never a lot to begin with.
Still, I shall drink from this glass again and again, for as long as I can make it last. Flickers of creativity are not easy to find these days- better stick to what you’ve got.
Tuesday, 25 March 2008
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