your sad blue smile

not being able to make the right move, to see clearly, is what makes you flawed, human after all...gives you a sort of sharpness. if all roads had been open to you, you wouldn't have been you, but someone else. and it's kind of crazy the way you wonder. but it makes your eyes gentle the way the light is gentle today. not eternity, but the changing days, and what carries through. it is now. if you hadn't spoken to me with your sad blue smile that first november day, i would never have known you were possible (and impossible), never known myself. and all the days would have passed quietly, some meaningfully.

summer has clicked over into autumn, and still you read time backwards, finding your thinner face. but i have nothing more to say, dying like a shadow, wandering in a dream.

I came to find you you were living
in a street with fences round the gardens
...
then i found you it was like
meeting myself and i said let's
plant roses and carnations and you said
how shall we set about moving these fences?
---john riley.