this world, where you and I dwell

published: 2012-12-21

Here’s what I want to do tonight.
I want to drink wine with you, or beer, and dance with you and fly into this night, straight through the fears, the tears, cut them in twos or threes or thousands of millions of pieces, tiny grains of sand, cells, amoeba, even smaller still, nuclei which dissolve into thin air so that with every breath you take, you will exhale to blow away that very thing away that infected you and me, our hearts, where it multiplied in twos and threes to destroy what was good and safe and wholesome, a word I’d like to swallow, and plant within me where it roots itself not only into my soul but pierces through my feet, into the ground, all the way into the epicenter of the world from where I then stand tall, next to you, and we will once again dwell in air that is sprinkled by love that tickles us as we breathe in.
That’s what I want to do tonight.