I don't usually bring the writing up here. But tonight, I was looking through a folder of half-finished bits and pieces. I found this little bit -- don't remember writing it. It's not anything at all, but for some reason, I like it. Thought I'd toss it up here.
Sometimes there aren’t words for the first half of the day. Sometimes there are too many. And it sounds slow and redundant to say my chest swelled, but my chest swelled. When we talk about the sky, it’s not the same thing. It is a small thing, but it still counts. You said you wanted to miss the last train home in every town. Well let’s start here.
I am cold and stiff from sleep. It may take me days to loosen up. But I will sit here and try it.
I don’t need to be inside of you, beside you will do. And the chores may pile up around but today a pigeon was on the window. I thought he may have brought a note from you. The truth was he was resting from the rain and the cold. I would take you in under my wing. And what you taught me is that I was wrong about the projections of something created before my blue eyes opened. I was wrong about you.
And the place you will have in my life.