Sunday, February 08, 2009

Early mornings would smell of baby powder from the last night. Late evenings of you after a day's ordeal.

I've known sadness. Purple shrouds of mist on a marshy moor. Late afternoons. A child on a swing. Touching the sky. Scraping the ground. Rising dust. Settling. Rising. Holed up sighs in a damp room. Sighs re-sighed.

I know a sadness now. Like the first warm evening after winter. You notice the sweat on your forehead. There is a breeze and a clear sky. It smells of flowers, weeds you have never known names to. You lie on the grass and look at the sky. The world as you know it recedes away from you until you feel like an alien. Alone. Alone because you know there is a world at the periphery. Far away.

How often have you missed a person you are sitting next to? Or hugging? Wishing you had more? Knowing there is no more. That you have all you would ask. More than all. It is an unavoidable longing. You find yourself in its depths, wallowing in it.

Like the pleasure of held up breath. Just before you give up and breath in? The faint tingles in your brain. Like a Beautiful Black Out.

I knew a sadness once. I know a sadness now.