20121226 the things you say part 20

20121226 the things you say part 20

This skedaddleing goes on. so it does. on and on.

We come together. Leave. A word. Leave. A gasp. Leave. Room for hope. Leave. Gone. Leave. A word. Leave. Another. Leave. In space out. In space out. Hook. Sinker. Hook. Sinker. Leave.

What is it? Your difference. It is there. I see it and I know it I know that it is there and it is real. Whatever. Whatever.  Have it. Fuck ya.

They clamber for a piece of you and the reasons are wrong their reasons are wrong and I am done with it. I know your cheeky smile as you sign yourself good bye at the end of a communication.  Authorised communication with a flourish. Something extra a bit more. A cheeky smile, euphemism, exclamation mark. An adage. I thank you but I'm off I shall skedaddle.

Have him, have him I say. I am done with it, bored with it, over it.

Let him be who he is do as he does. Clamber. Laugh too loud.  Hope for the treacle of attention as it pours down heavy, sticky.  Bored.  Done. Gone.  I take my leave. Bow out.

In my interior I watch as you speak so clever and articulate about the everyday, looking again, the malleability of the material. I watch you clearly talk it up, tell it loud, speak it true. Look at you, articulate, able, beautiful. Beauty of the unclaspable kind. Outside, inside, seeming real.  Seeming real.

Ah.

The truth. I sent you word, you sent me word, I sent it back and back and back. You backed away.  I lay my head. You sent me word, I batted back you hit me again I went for more you put your nose between your paws, the cancan played a mighty tune and you danced to it on and on and refused again to look my way.  I played the dice, I took the bet, I took the step, I extended my hand, through bars lined with glass I sliced skin and muscle in the stretching out of hand holding heart. Pump pump. You gazed towards your meadow, outside the window. I lapsed into silence. You spoke again, suddenly, out of the blue, thought of me and let me know it.

Damn dashed heart, split spliced and smarting skin with pumping blood and muscle in.

You whittled yourself away in the leaving. You chipped and chipped into possibility with silence and the big expanse of oak became a twig, a snippet, a fragment finally that I cannot recognise.

The facts remain. I am in here.  You are too. You are out of my reach. I love you. I love your knowing, articulation and distance, your expertise, intuition and vision. I love the space you create and inhabit and the lack of need you wear as a cape upon your shoulders. I love your knowing of me. I want more. It is not there to have. I draw a line a real solid line and watch me turn on my heel and walk away.

I will leave you for the others. You are not mine and i no longer want you.