78. i have decided that i will be cold tonight


do you reckon we could make snow angels without snow? we could scrape ourselves against the ground, delirium of cold seeping through our pores. then, maybe then, our bodies would scrape away the frost from the pavement without drawing blood. maybe the ice will shatter somewhere inside of us. i’m cold tonight and nothing will warm me.

more than anything, i’d like for the sunset to come around again.
more violent this time, more primitive, innate; heat firing my synapses all at once with broken impulses. and i want it to smell of freshly brewed coffee in a little cafe on a little hidden street nobody knows but stumbles onto by chance. we must always roll the die of life. it’s in the eyes. always in the eyes.

like silence.
yesterday i would have told you it never comes around, but silence came. and now i know true silence is that which lies in the inevitability of it being broken any moment now. suppose it’s like cutting a cake. don’t ask me why.
and when it comes around you can see it lurking like a shadow in the eyes. a vapid corner of pitch black dark. but we are burning embers in the shadows of the light.
come with me: it will be alright.
i have decided that i will be cold tonight.

but i will try to warm you up.

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13 responses to “78. i have decided that i will be cold tonight

  1. You last spoke about one of my own lines “truth is – regeneration never comes.” I don’t know whether it’s pure coincidence that you write:

    “i’d like for the sunset to come around again.
    more violent this time, more primitive, innate; heat firing my synapses all at once with broken impulses.”

    It’s as though the regeneration I spoke of that never comes….can come in the form of the sun, reigniting those dormant flames hidden inside of us. Albeit digressing from your point a little, that’s what I take from this little bit :)

  2. This gave me chills! I love this,

    “more than anything, i’d like for the sunset to come around again.
    more violent this time, more primitive, innate; heat firing my synapses all at once with broken impulses. and i want it to smell of freshly brewed coffee in a little cafe on a little hidden street nobody knows but stumbles onto by chance. we must always roll the die of life. it’s in the eyes. always in the eyes.”

  3. The stars themselves.

    How violent is the sunrise?
    It explodes onto the world.
    Bright red rays seek new foes.
    Old ones retreat in despair.
    A vast host fills the sky.
    Burning orange replaces bright red.
    The sky seared blue from darkest black.
    The stars themselves retreat.
    Begins the day.

    Andy Fox 050311
    Thankyou for inspiring this.

  4. Dark, lively. I like it, G. I like the idea of just submitting to the cold. Keep writing and thanks for all your recent vists and comments. Much appreciated.

  5. I wish I had one of those cafes around here..

  6. I retweeted. Love this. Especially the imagery of the coffee shop. I am often cold but am warmed up by life at times :-)

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