Incomprehension
9 May 2011
12:09 in a foreign bed alone
For a moment with Bon Iver
Playing in the background. Hear
How the music pulls one close
And away again, the same way
I miss you, not always.
Sometimes I’m not sure
What throbs, whether
My dreams are telling me that
I want you. But I do,
The way one walks forward for feeling
A strong fish-line underfoot
Yet knowing, for the same
Reason, how precarious
It all is. I miss like presque vu,
The way we feel drunk
Just hearing stories about drunkenness-
The things people do, beyond themselves.
How much of a need is intimacy,
The way it grips a heart?
Funny how we sympathise
With homeless children but scorn
Ourselves for loneliness.
You open the door and return
To my side. It is 12:16,
I am still. Bon Iver
Sings on in the background,
My mind’s in a foreign bed.
I am, alone.
10 September 2011 at 11:47 pm
will you hate me if i say this reminds me of cyril’s writing hahaha. before he became a gross pig of course. love it mich!!
11 September 2011 at 8:32 am
that’s such a compliment haha why would i hate you! hehe thanks so flattered :)