Wednesday, November 12, 2003

Song
The first note of that one song you've been waiting your whole life to hear through the pounding raindrops on the glass, on the top of your head you can feel the throbbing but it washes away like dirt on your grandmother's favorite china and you see all the cracks the blue skies that stare back at you as if they
knew, as if they knew.
Your mouth is dry and your head has been hurting the whole long week but all the time, the rosemary smell and the mint that had been beyond your fingers (with the fingernails you've been meaning to cut because they awl your fist as you write) which has been aching for paint and clay without the slightest notion about how to
transform beauty
or write the words...
the wild brambly kicking scratching sagebrush KNOCKS YOU OFF YOUR
FEET!
Your mouth is dry and your nose breathes in the fine red dust that clouds about you
but you smell the rosemary the mint and you think about how you've been meaning to cut the nails that awl your fist clenched around that blue marker or that green pen with the dead ink
The first note of that one song you've been waiting for your whole damn life to hear through the pounding, pounding rain.

-Lauren Lim

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