blog
swurl
subscribeTuesday, April 29
Return of the SuperNerd?
It flows both ways like we all should have learned from the tide. Intelligently designed, I have small and modest ideas in me that something is running away, under my feet, a metaphor of thunder storms that hesitate to calm us. Sitting in a small chair, opposite a screen door that leads to wind and rain, I forget all the times the shepherd's song brought me back home, with the cows, for the sleep that lasted from dawn until dusk until your eyes brightened against my melting heart and the world was one step from tomorrow. It's been four days. It's hurricane season and a thousand trumpets scream for my full attention. This is for good. If only the waters were calm. If only consistency would reign. Kissing you, an urge to flee, let's try try try again.
Connection is a primary human urge.
Freedom or independence is another.
If you really want me to return, in full force, seven or eight things may explode, and I am still afraid that I may be one of them. This is the last seal, the curse of regret, and the last chance to reanimate my southern cross.
It flows both ways like we all should have learned from the tide. Intelligently designed, I have small and modest ideas in me that something is running away, under my feet, a metaphor of thunder storms that hesitate to calm us. Sitting in a small chair, opposite a screen door that leads to wind and rain, I forget all the times the shepherd's song brought me back home, with the cows, for the sleep that lasted from dawn until dusk until your eyes brightened against my melting heart and the world was one step from tomorrow. It's been four days. It's hurricane season and a thousand trumpets scream for my full attention. This is for good. If only the waters were calm. If only consistency would reign. Kissing you, an urge to flee, let's try try try again.
Connection is a primary human urge.
Freedom or independence is another.
If you really want me to return, in full force, seven or eight things may explode, and I am still afraid that I may be one of them. This is the last seal, the curse of regret, and the last chance to reanimate my southern cross.
