colbyduck

I am the discordant whisperings of thoughts just briefly remembered and vaguely intelligible, made in the foggy border states of consciousness as you’re drifting off to sleep, the last setting sunbeams of the day, as seen between the interlocking branches of two brilliantly colored trees in bloom, the immutability of the human condition, from Shinjuku to the corn husking states, and the vagabonds stealing away into boxcars to destinations unknown everywhere in between, a harsh and wailing winter gust rendering your wool and your cotton and your cashmere futile, blowing through your skin into your bones, numbing your face, drying your tearing eyes, the peaceful embrace of two lovers in the minutes following sexual ecstasy, the loose ends and regrets shrouded in the shadows of you memories, gnawing at you still every time they surface, the change you wish to see in the world, the unrecognizability of your own face when you stare at it in the mirror too closely for too long, the unbearable despair of the awareness of your own mortality, your outrage at an injustice you know but cannot name, a whiff of red wine and dark chocolate, a wise aphorism stuck just at the tip of your tongue, the absurdity of it all, existential dysphoria, ashes and dust, smiles and sighs, the insatiable hunger for more... and more... and more. And I will be heard.