I had to. Twelve some odd hours in front of a computer screen.
What's that. Many apologies.
We now have six under our belts. Well, I wear a belt; she hates to be
constricted. Although, I must say, on most days, a belt just sort of
hangs upon the waist. Yeah, high school weight. I hear you. Who are
you.
Twenty years. That is something. Watching every line form. Like
changing the ticket roll at the deli. Yeah, they've all gone
digital. Yeah, I've seen all the fancy grocery line technology. That
wasn't my point. I was speaking frankly. No, not about Frank. Who
is Frank.
I can't imagine studying you and feeling like we're strangers. It's
not "not being observant." It's also not retreating. It's a broken
wire. Yeah, all the other ones in tact. We could just pretend. We
could just call each other on the handset. Room 1 to room 4. How
strange. I love you.
All the signals. Crossed at intersections. Water logged and plain
burnt out. We'll salvage what we can. But with little experience
with being humble and logical, I'll revert to cranky. I'm sorry. I
will try to imagine reversing gracefully. I'm sorry. I thought I knew
you.
I thought you were someone I knew. I miss you. I miss me, too.
--
3.11.10
Comments