In the realm of love, we hold and unfold stories. We bend and color our experiences, like vibrant branches in the spring, only to see them disappear like a fleeting breath. Let us create a garden within ourselves, embracing the everyday scenes and fractured moments. An old dress, made anew with absent extras, starched and pressed in a humble gravy, symbolizes our persistent pursuit despite limited resources. The plot folds and fades, concealing our passionate endeavors and secrets.
There is always a sense of anticipation, as if we are about to hear something profound. Yet, what we hear fades into the background, concealed in plain sight and the melody of life. We wonder about the meaning behind all these wonders, but they are on the verge of withdrawal, just about to be withheld. If there is a secret in what we see, it quickly vanishes. Can we also journey into oblivion? Let us delve deep into memory, exploring the intricacies and subtleties of our experiences, even if they appear insignificant at first glance.
Ultimately, the rhythm surpasses expectations, leaving behind what would never have occurred otherwise. There is no established pattern for the club’s proceedings, but within her shell lies a protective aura that transcends the envious whispers. It merges seamlessly with the evocative cues of solitude, intertwining rendezvous and introspection. Let’s see if we can enter this enigmatic realm. Let’s see if fate will allow us to be captivated like a game of baccarat. Look to your lower left arm in the corner, does it fold? Sometimes preparation is simply observing the harmony of nature on a wall. We cherish the unique imprints of our fingerprints when they feel unfamiliar to us, realizing that beauty and imperfections are intertwined in the grand scheme of things. Are we mirrored in our father’s smile? The enigmatic blessing of that corner in the stormy circle shifts from one frame to another, preserving its essence. We engage with the profound cosmic energy bound within this space, meticulously sewing the buttons and binding of life.
In this lavender-hued dance of a Saturday, we witness a tone that resonates with our pan-affective sensibilities. The intensity of our emotions far surpasses our actual interactions. I yearn to see you in this light, through a different lens, permeated by an overtone of color that fills the village. If I can perceive that atmosphere, then I can fathom the essence of display and evanescence. Yet, we exert excessive effort to obtain the beam of light we offer. Something feels awry, but we have the power to fix it. Let’s strive to rectify it this very moment.
Do you notice how these irreparable landscapes persist in their diverse forms? Soon, children will come and transform these books and records, laying them out on the sidewalk like flowers. Even their meticulous touch and patterns in their hair will vanish into the echoes of what we give away. I yearn to relinquish it all in an echoing fashion, reminiscent of an abbey’s serenity. Everything lies within your grasp and your gaze, like the concluding notes of “Blue Monk,” reverberating endlessly. Our thoughts are deeply intertwined with your presence, symbolizing hope and growth.
Note: This poem is an adaptation from a longer version and was inspired by the stunning photography of Carrie Mae Weems. It is featured in the September 2023 print edition.
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