2002-08-29
5:36 p.m.
let your worries drift away
Shhh, shhhh, shhh. Once more I am urging quiet into me, I'm using the Cash Brothers for the notes unsung between their voices, I'm hearing I let it go too far and I'm hearing around we go. And I'm back on such a hot, sunburny day in the sand and shallow grass, I'm leaning against a white-t-shirted man and listening to these same songs, that stayed on repeat in my head for the rest of my night. I'm remembering a melt-your-brain slam poet turning around and saying you're beautiful and I'm remembering that it didn't matter at all, with the white-t-shirted man beside me. And you know, it doesn't matter at all that I won't have a white-t-shirted (6'3", red-bearded, blonde-headed) man beside me this year, because I am currently a grey-t-shirted (5'10", pale-faced, blonde-headed) woman with so much to do. This is not the change I expected to come of the week I had; I expected more guilt, much more guile. This is so without malice (no offense), so without anger. So how could I be hurt? When I was so close to sure. But this is also without definition, and as long as I don't let the situation define itself, I'll be fine. Cause, this summer was idyllic, mostly, just like everything in retrospect. push them back anyway
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