A Black Feather, A poison pen... ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- just for one moment i heard somebody call This advanced state of confused melancholy just settles further and further into my system. The issue of the house is not the least of the things on my mind. Memory fragments and dust. so many issues of distance that are just as wide, if not wider, in their figurative sense than they are in their literal sense. Gaps not simply composed of place but of time amd feeling. perhaps again, i am back to being that foolish simple thing from some primordial past jumping repeatedly into the night air to try and catch the moon. clearly in sight, maddeningly out of my reach. sigh. 11:49 a.m. - 2003-04-17 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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