i've been in your home since 1920. longer than your three daughters, longer than the wine stain on the living room carpet, longer than the photo of your mother's second marriage.
i've been living inside your walls longer than you've been moving those lungs. and i've been moving plaster through these lungs.
when I fill the walls the walls likewise fill me up. I haven't screamed since 1932.
this story came to me while reading the label on a can of vegetables.
Much in doing.. all the trip planning detailed itineraries of course, maps without which we are surely lost.. distances and times contingency insurance..
What of all this preparation..? much effort dedicated to here and there.. if we could locate ourselves on the roads between.. there we find no places and times.. freedom arrives ourselves the destinations...
Between the two of us, there are three, I, she and our selfishness in person, quite heavy, as an undivided bundle, others will always perceive, if one looks hard enough, that is.