23 November 2009 § Leave a comment

Those fresh and clear moments, mornings in Albuquerque when I’d be skipping school for some engagement I wanted even less a part of. Winter was always on its way. The sun pale, but not like Alaska – this still had some warmth to it. The air was chill and the birds singing. It could easily be a weekday in autumn, as it is right now. The smell is what a city smells like, everyone’s routine – and I’m so glad not to have one, because this realization would pass me by. This is the day people working indoors talk about how they’re missing the beautiful weather, and by the time they see it, the whole world will be taken in by the rapturous golden glow that is mocking to us all: it says I am the proof that you missed out, I am the evidence of beauty that will never exist again, not like it did today – I offered you the morning, but all of you were working, or slept in.

Spiral with my free hand. Reluctant to breathe in another moment, because I’ll have to eventually exhale – and we’ll all be breathing tragedy by three this afternoon, when exposing body parts you never would to snow, the temporary breathe visible no more to we who called it intervention. To hell with the finalities of December and July, it’s in between we really live, when there’s less trivial design.


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