"...I’m a fan of the tangible, the slow-cooked oatmeal,
the dying pigeon crouched by the base of the tree,
the velour of baby hair against the hand. Pomegranates:
the ruby tears dressed in their transparent rain-jackets.
And why can’t moments be labeled as they happen?
HERE COMES HIS LAST WORD. THIS IS ABOUT TO BE YOUR LAST TOUCH.
So no miracle’s ever lost, like that day when the taxi
collects us from the movies and we skittle home in the rain
make dinner, believe, love and then call it, (how-could-we?) a day."
Time to watch Amelie again, put on my vintage man dress shoes and walk around thinking about it for hours afterwards. Every day more Zelda-room time. There's no better place on earth to lie down, read and dream things into revision.
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