September 17, 2003
Fading
Michael, you sent me an email with Mazzy Star's Fade Into You attached. It is strange that it is new for you. For me, I have heard it in so many shadowy moments, when there is a sadness with happiness close.
I am thinking of you tonight, as I have all day. There is a chill on my skin when my arms are bare, but it turns quickly to heat when covered by a sweater. Even my limbs are impatient.
Today has passed by me, a wind coloured pastel by the things that should've been done; Red and Yellow and Orange the leaves that are caught up in it, the thoughts that instead occupied my body.
I think with my whole self. My hands like bleached moths, rapid-rabid-scathing, moving too quickly to be properly seen. My hips are swaying to this rhythm, so subtly, the chance throb of a drum beat shuddering down from my heart sending them suddenly quaking. My eyes become translucent with tears, or the ghosts of, irises clouded with memory and the remembering of. My skin like a circuit board, passing not only signals but silences, the non-noises which I sometimes find so comforting.
It is necessary to give in order to receive. With each step I take, I leave a single letter, an A or a B or a Q, and when you take a moment to crouch down on the sidewalk, you'll find a poem dropped among the other litter there. A love poem, or a hate poem, because I've realized that the two really aren't the same thing. Like the thread unraveling from my jeans, I cut them there, left them gaping, open, ugly. There is a fine line to be walked in this world, and I leave a finer one in my wake.
Michael, this song is only four minutes and fifty five seconds long. I want to make love with these chords slipping between our forms, pushing and eager as you are. We shall have to be quick.
astera at 10:51 p.m.