It is commonplace that indifference would exalt banal vainglory but it is a trifling apprehension which belittles oneself to a sordid respite. What is so unnerving about memory is the subdued loves you squander your youth on- there is only so much affection you can suscribe to your heart becomes as esoteric as it sounds.
Walking back from a routine run is opportunity enough to realise the pedestrian lines around the bend are abandoned and when the paint runs thin you ascertain that the invisible security you conjure from aerosol mystics has well disappeared forever. Then you are so infinitely aware of your plight you cannot help but rationalise and curse your conscience.
Having chanced upon a cupflower bouquet amidst the cornershop which smelled of lavender I had whereby asserted that such frail luster was tailormade for tragedy; also that with each passing year I grow indefinitely more incorrigible- a page of music no longer revolutionizes me and the blinds are over my room should the morning sun awake me. There exists the recurring theme of yesterday because living is easy with eyes closed.
Up on the deck under salutary conditions I observe movements in the atmosphere and it pleases me immensely that the quarantine quarter is over.
I had wanted to dig a trench around the tree to bury something there only to hold testament that certain things never change but today at precisely five the balcony played gallery to a brilliant procession of blackbirds soaring at moderate heights falling short of drilling holes in the sky. Also I would imagine a lake teeming with trout boiling up as though a hugh pinch of soda had been flung into it producing first a silly little ripple, then a sort of scintillating boiling and finally a jazzy fit of frenzy.- all in all exactly at half past six. Time, in these instances, then, is not bedridden by fallacy.
The breadwinner of the world is that there is proportion and equality in its faculties- in this fundamental aspect it achieves a great average. Youth alone endures the sickness that is idealism but even skyscrapers falter in time. Imprisoned within technology's webspace there are words and words of romanticist concepts- that of which cannot be numbered or gauged nor known. It is this comedy which apprehends a wistful smile. Should the poet have shortcomings, let it be that the world is not painted or inspired upon- the world is beautiful from the beginning and beauty is the creator of the universe.
Afterwards
An era of sentiment and fine words aside, what broke my heart was your quaint disposition if only in a poem- how tragedy inspired your smile and other chalk dust theatrics; your timeless fortitude that made even turqouise alabaster; also your dose of practical magic which rendered me crestfallen half gaping for air.
What are these inane imbalances within me- they are tantamount to rampant january rain because they linger and uphold; to have held me hostage in its dream.
My fondness for epicurean delights and your splendid disdain for motherhood were the perfect ingredients to an ephemeral flight.
*There, my panache of shapeless clouds, it is almost eleven and the sun is nowhere near meridian skies. Mayflies live for a day so please let it shine.
( Songwrights compose in divorced verse. On parting it is just as well. )
Afterword
We now revisit the season of Eden's descent where whatever began surely had to end (only this time, there are no inexorable pythons but the venom of twin hearts on dolorous days). We had sauntered into the play pen in gallivanting fashion; subdued ourselves of footloose adorations; gazed into eyes with makeshift certainty and dare I say it took the headfirst plunge.
As a child I stood smitten at the ruins of Rome- fortuitous, vehement and babylonian so when words escape me I liken the experience to that of a nursery expedition.
The last car ride before our lives changed you had remained adamant. You had mistaken my pithy for gloom; You had rendered me immaculate; You had purpose that would set me awry.
*It was to be a strange and beautiful endeavor and I am happy only for my heart that will from today reside within me again.
