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diaryland
my eyes going out of me like a cry
28 January 2003 - 02:09
the shapes of certain trees at a certain intersection in ladd's addition: a gate, a passageway that transforms. it was a dream-memory; it was something you long for and don't know why -- the sheer beauty, perhaps. home. home in an abstract set of lines against a gray sky, your vision dancing. the telephone lines, like a spire or spiderweb: he knew. i walked through the gates with the two people with whom i most want to spend my time. and that is what i suppose you have to do when you meet perfection, your dreams manifested in front of you, home: keep walking; marvel, but keep walking.
