Sunday, May 20, 2007

I have been pleased lately with Shouldn't, But Will Anyway. It can be seen in spines curled like ferns and knees nestled, in not thinking and only reacting. In borrowing what I ought not even be looking at.

I stumbled home at dawn after another night of adventures, voice roughened from cigarettes and too much drink, satisfied with Could Have, But Didn't. Fell asleep in my clothes to dream of secret knocks and dresses with fringe.

Yesterday, walking, I was trapped in a sudden rainshower. I stood watching an empty tennis court become slick and deep green, and suddenly I knew that any object placed on that damply dimpled surface would become an object of irony. Would become completely beside the point. For a moment, that tennis court may as well have been on the moon.

But then a runner jogged behind me and broke the moment. The world thumped back into its usual grooves and the tennis court drifted away from the profound and turned back into just another empty public space. A trickle of rain gathered at the end of my hair and ran down my back and I was, I realized, cold.

For just an instant there, though, everything was exactly as it should have been.

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