poems still up at ditch. I'd love to hear what you think.
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there's this song that keeps haunting me lately. It's called "We're All Prettier in the Dark" and the lines that keep coming back to me in spare moments, when I'm not thinking of anything else, go something like,
When you fall in love with two people
Pick the one that you knew first
Because history is important
It sounds simple but it's true.
The lines themselves are simple enough - not even exactly poetic till the combination of the singer's rawly hoarse, seductive voice, and the crushing weight of referentiality lend them weight and depth.
Because the fact is that, as some of you may know, I am 'in love' with two people. The thing is that I don't even know if that's true, whether or not I am in love with either or both of these women.
One I've known for over four years now; we've been together off and on (always 'together' but often living the length of entire states, or the entire country, apart), and lived together for approximately two years. The one thing I do know about her is that i love her as one loves one's closest friend. She knows...a lot...about me - I was about to say everything, but then I remembered that almost no one knows everything about me - that's a condition I've developed, a need to ensure that NO ONE has the full story on me, though many probably think they do.
The problem is that I feel that other kind of love - the kind i'm supposed to feel after being with her for four years - slipping away from me. All too often I'm simply annoyed at her presence, and physically...well, physically, the interest is gone. Dead and gone.
Then there's the other girl. Petite and beautiful, she's a graphic designer born and raised in Mexico. We see each other almost every day, and are able to spend at least one night a week together, usually. And it's with her that I feel all the dizzying intoxication, the swept-away feeling that love is supposed to engender. At least, so I've been told.
Every time I look into her eyes, every time I trace the silken architecture of her face with my eyes, I feel...unable to believe that she's even real, let alone willing to lend me her time, her mouth pressed against my own.
They are both beautiful - inside and out, to invoke the old cliche - but the problem is, I must find a way to resolve this situation. To choose one or the other.
And no matter what the song says, I feel less and less inclined to lend history its importance.
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there's this song that keeps haunting me lately. It's called "We're All Prettier in the Dark" and the lines that keep coming back to me in spare moments, when I'm not thinking of anything else, go something like,
When you fall in love with two people
Pick the one that you knew first
Because history is important
It sounds simple but it's true.
The lines themselves are simple enough - not even exactly poetic till the combination of the singer's rawly hoarse, seductive voice, and the crushing weight of referentiality lend them weight and depth.
Because the fact is that, as some of you may know, I am 'in love' with two people. The thing is that I don't even know if that's true, whether or not I am in love with either or both of these women.
One I've known for over four years now; we've been together off and on (always 'together' but often living the length of entire states, or the entire country, apart), and lived together for approximately two years. The one thing I do know about her is that i love her as one loves one's closest friend. She knows...a lot...about me - I was about to say everything, but then I remembered that almost no one knows everything about me - that's a condition I've developed, a need to ensure that NO ONE has the full story on me, though many probably think they do.
The problem is that I feel that other kind of love - the kind i'm supposed to feel after being with her for four years - slipping away from me. All too often I'm simply annoyed at her presence, and physically...well, physically, the interest is gone. Dead and gone.
Then there's the other girl. Petite and beautiful, she's a graphic designer born and raised in Mexico. We see each other almost every day, and are able to spend at least one night a week together, usually. And it's with her that I feel all the dizzying intoxication, the swept-away feeling that love is supposed to engender. At least, so I've been told.
Every time I look into her eyes, every time I trace the silken architecture of her face with my eyes, I feel...unable to believe that she's even real, let alone willing to lend me her time, her mouth pressed against my own.
They are both beautiful - inside and out, to invoke the old cliche - but the problem is, I must find a way to resolve this situation. To choose one or the other.
And no matter what the song says, I feel less and less inclined to lend history its importance.
And I'm sending the link to your poems to my work to read when I have a quiet moment. I'll let you know what I think.