Thursday, March 19, 2009

mistaken for strangers

I don’t want to be known, and I don’t want to know you. Names are not necessary. I just want to shed a little light, maybe a glow, but leave the stage dark. You can show me whatever you want too. Just show me a piece. Leave out the parts you don’t want seen.

You don’t have to find the right words, and neither do I. We can just speak into the void. We can let the darkness swallow the things we did not mean to say whole, never to be heard again.

When we part, you won’t remember me and I won’t remember you. You won’t know for sure if I ever really existed. I didn’t. We didn’t. We are a figment. We are the fractured mirror, the sliver left in which you can see a reflection- but a distorted fragment. If you saw me, you wouldn’t recognize me, and I wouldn’t recognize you.

That’s what we want, and that’s what we got. We never mean to pry, we never mean to push it too far. And so we float, float above the world, or away from the world with this weightlessness. Eventually, you might need a little gravity. Eventually, curiosity might get the best of me. I ask a question, or you ask a question, and the pinprick deflates the balloon. Down we fall to the ground in the light of day, two strangers. It doesn’t look so good from down here.

So we part, in search of the night and shadows, places we can hide, places where others congregate in the darkness and inevitably offer you a light to start it up all over again.

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