Sunday, December 28, 2014


Love is deeper than at first it can be thought. A portrait of the mind on the internet, mazed. We refuse to think a plane can disappear; mystery has lost its. This may seem selfish, but I want my partner to tell me things. I'm so sick of looking at his face and seeing only the same two eyes, the ones that used to look at me like orphans. The tension between structure and personality governs our interactions. Flow charts mark the failure of eye beams to remain fixed. There's the melting, as of lava in Pahoa, flowing downhill, through chain link. The newspaper reports every foot of it, the week-long pauses. Walk for your life, someone jokes. The mystery is not that it exists, but the day it erases the strip mall's parking lot.

--28 December 2014

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