The day started after a foul night, instead of sleep there was concern and confusion.
The humid dawn displayed relief through broken clouds, so many things in life are assumed to be
deserved, few are earnt and almost non are ours by right.
I told myself to aim at perfection and whatever I hit would be good enough to
carry me through.
The dawn reminded me of possibility again. the bright warm thursday after such
a stormy wednesday week.
The foul night pulled me out of bed and threw me to the other side of my backyard.
Now here´s the keen new thursday to put me back together and probably by the end of the day
I´ll be sound again if i lose the funny expectations.
Yes thursday would be my nurse for lack of sleep injures me. I can already feel the fine lotion
and my layer of skin rebuilding itself.
I can feel the tide of the plesiosaur coming in with that lurking animal that is I.
My bruises brush past the kelp, it eases me and replenishes the energy lost in all my muscles.
By nightfall I will be whole again regrown and reformed.
Today I step outside myself to see the real negative and positive parts of me.
They fight like rabid dogs and the wounds appear on either side of me.
The madness smacks me hard in the face but the second blow misses as I duck.
over and over I face the conflict.
Ah but today´s dawn caresses me like it was natural as if I was lovable enough.
I´ll continue to carry the idea until well past dusk.
Reflecting too much can turn you into a mirror and even with thursday such a qualified therapist
I see glass form on the outer layer of my skin each time I reflect.
Sometimes not even the rays of sun can warm the middle of me.
So the forced smile curves brilliantly upward and the day goes on.
It feels like I´m wearing a ten kilo hat of doubt.
I can´t seem to take it off yet when I fraternize with thursday
she offers to do it for me.
Her dawn shoulders calm me at just looking at them.
Her morning forearms cuddle me.
And she will offer the back of her hand for the kissing gesture before
she is no more.
Feeling attacked that foul night, the common misinterpretation is when mere jest or suggestion enact.
I´ve found myself realizing how silly I´ve been and began to start the laughter early like
a defective motor.
Intrigue will no doubt pull me in but only when i invoke her.
It´s through playing dumb that violators spring and make bank although i´ll never be like that.
Putting yourself out there in the sun, it smacks the brazen cheek like butchers tenderizing meat.
And who will save you if it´s not thursday.
Fifty prayers may not save you, perhaps only the unique turn of events on such a day would solve and soothe your worried head.
Patience how I´d like to get in contact with that.
I think patience has so much to tell me and where patience could explain the strange seperation between me and my ill notions of time.
Thursday would massage me. Patience would exercise my will and polish the trophy until it was shiny and obvious.
Patience who could never be confused with complacency, although the two have been mistaken for each other at parties and through long standing crushes.
Complacency what a sneaky enemy when life is so very short.
I would give patience a sword and witness it slaying complacency or I myself
would slaughter complacency in patience´s name.
Is love a seed that you must germinate and wait to grow? Is patience the gardener?
Or can it be an already healthy young tree where a hole and fine soil await it´s planting?
And can be quickly established within the local climate/soil?
Patience would still have it´s hands in matters no doubt. Care would step in like a tutor
and see to the watering and monthly pruning.
Can a tree ever be a suitable metaphor for love?
Can a seed?
It´s thursday and she´ll babysit my doubts today.
Some meals are supposed to be eaten cold and heating it up
would only ruin the delicate uncertain texture of the meal.
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