Either I fell from the heavens or you left this earth. Some nights, I’m far from the city, the clouds have somehow left, and I lay trying to reconstruct you from your constellation points. Most days I dream of you.
But it may as well be an infinity of space, or an ungraspable dimension, or the vicissitudes of memory that separate me from you.
Someday I know, I too will leave this world, or you will return unexpected as I walk, and I wonder what will happen then. Will I recognize you there on the other side of these times?
Monday, February 1, 2010
Most Days I Dream Of You
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