Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Excerpt from the Salt War

I might be bored. And making shit up.
This is what I am thinking right now, and no, i will not be editing. this is me raw. and rambling for no reason other than... i am soooo freaking bored. pen to paper, no looking back...

So if I am just walking around, pushing envelopes and watching them bend, am I holding anything?
Today I ventured out into some freezing rain and it was freezing.
I was craving a shiver when I saw her there. Laughing to herself, kneeling down playing with pebbles. I thought, "Why is she kneeling in the rain on the ground?"
I got my shiver as i glanced over my shoulder and it was you again. But , there was no one there. It was only my hair, a shadow there where I thought you were.
And back to she, with salt crusted a good, well, 4 inches or so up her legs. Dried on to the black polyester of her pants just dragging in the street across sidewalks, torn and worn tight molded to her like my hands had been just days before on her hips.
Laughing. Infatuated.
I am guessing she had found something there on the ground. Something other than rain and broken glass or hearts like ours just laying there. Being run over and over and salted like tears on our cheeks. Does she wear this salt on her face like her pants, til wash? huh?
I love her, this full lippy, laughy, hippy, giggly carrier of pebbles and things to put them in.
I have no idea what i am saying anymore.

My point is.. I saw her stand up and put something in the envelope. The one I thought I had in my seemingly empty pockets full of change...
And it was big, and lumpy. Not a coat button or a zipper, something she held close to her heart that day and she walked away while I waited for the rain to freeze.

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