Monday, June 21, 2010

I am retreating. From people conversations greetings pleasantries and mindless chatter. From eye contact interaction shaking hands standing in line sitting in a coffee shop where someone will approach and gush their hellos while I've got my java half way to my lips and rather than catching the delicious and sweet steamy brew, I place the cup on the table to say hello.

Lily is good but I am clinging to her as cars pass. I fear she'll make the leap into someone's passenger window they have rolled down to catch the summer, bringing hot breezes in to rustle their clothes and tug at their scalp, to slap against their shirts and slide over their skin.

Out on the motorcycle tonight after a town meeting I shuffle thoughts like cards held in uncertain hands.

Do I wake up tomorrow and grab for the retreating threads of a dream running to hide from daylight? Do I hurry and chase it back into the darkness or open my eyes and test the day?

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