Recall: A time less lost

I think I recall a time when I had a lot more to say. 

Love isn’t easy, but that’s what makes it’s stronger. That’s what makes it unique. It’s the reason why not everyone finds it. When the dynamics of two people are so strong that a passion is created that never has touched the other person, it’s what I would imgaine my first gasp of air as a child was like. So filling, so new, undefinable.. but clearly ALIVE. Each breath pulls air into the body filling it with a phase of new life in the world. An understanding of what two people have and what the other person means and they continue to work through life’s up and downs. What do you do when the love of your life enters your world?Better question; what do you do when you can no longer breath? Are we to accept life and death as the beginging and end? 

I think I recall a time when I had a lot more to say. 

A time when I vomited four syllable words with a fury of intent. What was my intent, exactly? I can’t seem to remember, though I’m certain it was passionately arbitrary. There comes a time when one takes a step back, and realizes the fruitlessness of it all. That a boy, or girl I suppose, is nothing more than just a boy or a girl. A collection of cells and chemicals lumped together in an aesthetically pleasing fashion. Strip off your skin, muscle, and bone and you won’t find a soul. There is no glowing orb of consciousness imbedded in your brain, just tissue and neurotransmitters. 

I think I recall a time when I had a lot more to say 

I guess I can ask why we are hiding; but a better question and more appropriate question is rather where are we hiding? Where do I keep that part of myself that appreciates Barry Manilow? Where is the piece of me that knows with absolute certainty that oriental lilies are beautiful? 

I think I recall a time when I had a lot more to say 

She left her hair au natural, occasionally a part at a 67 degree angle. I struggle to remember that they are nothing more than just hairs; stacks of dead cells that I will brush off of your forehead to clear an area so that I may plant a gentle kiss. Just hairs, and your skin pressed to mine is just skin. Where do I keep that part of myself that never wants to be without you? 

In order to create, one must be destroyed. So I let it all go. I have to. 

You can stare at the stars and numb your mind with the vast and inexplicable nuances they hold or you can call a star, a star and go about your day. What exactly is in your day? Take a step back and realize the breathtaking complexity of it all. When the sun sets and the moon rises you’re left with just the clarity that it’s you, me and the spinning cosmos – our jumbles of cells crying out for one another. 

I seem to recall a time when I had a lot more to say.