2010-11-30
hand squeeze
i hope you know that i will miss you forever and ever and ever and ever (and it will never end). because that is what yearning is, even if it eclipses the thing itself. but you can die knowing i feel this way. i'm not going to stop, no matter how much I (or at least my life circumstances) change, because at this point, it's just an immutable part of who i am. how does that make you feel? to know that there is that within me, and it's because of you, because of what you've been for me in my life? the inspiration, the countless ripples you've caused within me. keen, tremulous, urging, wanting, desperate, vivid. you did that to me. and now that we're apart, the memory of you, it will always do that to me. do you feel that? do you want me to grasp your hand and squeeze it, will that help you apprehend this, to feel that squeeze on your knuckles, me earnestly pressing your fingers together within my grasp? to feel our skin on one another's. and feel this firm grip of me on you, this press, so i can viscerally evoke to you what it feels like, this stirring warmth ignited, inside me.
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
i quiver, i tremble, i unfold. we undulate. and i hope, silently, that none of it is contrived. that i really do mean it, that i'm not just playing us both. i've gotten quite skilled at psyching myself out these days. something about a lack of self-trust and confidence, and suspicion when i find myself in supremely valuable situations.
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility
nothing is so intense. i want nothing, in this world, so badly.
i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes
what does that mean. what does this all mean. here we are, but i feel numb. i want to recede into that old, familiar inspiration. the softness of your face, those smooth and heavy eyelids, the curvature of your smile. i think it is so beautiful, i want to trace my fingers all over it, after i squeeze your hand. this is a dream.
leesah-likes at 7:20 p.m.