crying without tears in the darkness
2002-11-26 - 2:36 a.m.
before/after
strangely
non-functional guestbook
and I looked into her eyes the penumbral darkness radiating from her dumb american soul, (she's only nineteen you know) I and she-dooby-dee-bop raiding her basket and clutching at her love she...didn't understand. Walking down the street with her, In bizarre denver darkness, never know quite whom you might meet, but then you know everybody in their morose longing for days forever gone, "city just ain't like it used to ten or nine year ago", her enjoying the fact that people get out of our way. And later, in the bedroom, sharing, that most seminal moments you can have with a girl, I rested my hands upon her hips as I came poo-pook-a-dooky preistly arcs of roping cum, going somewhere, and I reached out to her, I mean I physically reached out to her. And tried to hold her close, like I do only once with girls, some girls, with the maritime smile, and lotus blossom ways, a touch and grab that only means one thing that this is all nonesense, that the bhuddas and neitches, and einstine's and planks make no reason or rhyme, paradigms shifted-be-diff every few generations or so just to have a new bad explanation. Not one iota of truth, here, there, anywhere, or any small amount of proof of reason or rhyme. And I clutch at her hips, as if to say,
"this is all madness" and the only truth is to be found right here, between two people the only thing we can understand, yet, truly, still the mystery of the ages, She shrugged me off, making love with her eyes closed thinking of her ex boyfriend or something. She was only nineteen, needing only the heat, and not the knowledge. bwazaaa.
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