To age is to harbor memories in the oddest places; a design, a time of day, a color.
Aging is the unsettling experience of hearing a song from a decade ago
And having your mind still register it as a recent chart-topper.
When cantaloupe tastes of southeastern shores and washed up conchs
And flatbread reeks of the expensive dinners had during poolside nights at hotels.
When daybreak touches your face
And you’re hit with the scents and sounds of another morning, a morning long past...
An old lion sits on the balcony writing a letter to his lover describing the moment he first saw her; he uses the moon as his lamplight as he murmurs the next line.
"I thought: you are the best drawing I've ever seen..
The most captivating painting,
Most sensual of all the sculptures."
The insignificance of human life is found in those moments where you confront your own mortality
And realize that everything is as it ever was and is as it will ever be.
But I’m not ready to face the insignificance!
We're here now; living, breathing, writing. Does that count for naught?
I refuse to face the fact that one day no one will remember the people I love and cherish,
The people who make up my world.
I want everyone to know their names and beautiful horrid faces.
I want everyone to know the people who shaped me and thus, I want everyone to know me.
Every time I glance out the window
The clouds have reformed into a new and more beautiful arrangement.
And every time I glance at the clock
I’ve wasted another hour.
After every time I eat
I wince and brush my teeth,
Every time I’m touched
I grimace and shake,
And every time I sleep
I dread the moment I have to wake.
Where will I be in two years?
Will I be dumbed down and delinquitized?
Will I be living on the edge with Dionysus and his friends?
Or will I be a scholarly, orderly student?
Will I be me, or will I fall into the clutches of some other identity?
I would apologize but it would be futile,
Since an apology is meant to serve as a promise that one will never let something of the contextual nature happen again.
But I can’t promise you anything
Because I know this'll just happen again.
Of all the facets I have
You just had to find me wearing this one.
At this point, I only hope he can rest peacefully
And that a part of him has been reincarnated into an unassuming cherub.
At this point, I just hope that one day when I’m old and grey-headed
In Soho or Orlando or in Florence...
I’ll come across a young man laughing.
A young man who resembles him: his unique look, the distinctive voice, distinct laugh...
I won’t know it and neither will he.
But perhaps we’ll meet again for a split second
In another time, another place, another life...