Venerdì, 23 Aprile, 2004 | Posted by Lionel Gerkin at 08:13

I saw her. It had been a long time. I had heard lots of stories about her from Marie. But you know, it's never the same. Your ears can never see what your eyes can't hear.

There was a radio playing in the background. The song seemed to dull the screech of the seagulls.

It was at the beach. The white sand made way for her and it seemed to swallow part of her every step so that each grain could keep a piece of her for a little while longer. I wish I was that sand.

She was with Jesus. They held hands tightly and walked along not talking. He looked all frentic energy bound together in a ball and ready to go off. Someone who demanded attention no matter how far from you he stood. You could feel his goddam energy.

I was standing in the middle of the footpath, in the middle of a sunny day. I was wearing shorts and sandles, a loud shirt. And even the sound of that shirt was diluted by my personality.Thousands of people milled past and not one would have noticed me. Not one would have been able to describe who I was. Even in a Police line up I would still have be invisible. The music played, people danced around me:

I wish I was a neutron bomb, for once I could go off.
I wish I was a sacrifice but somehow still lived on.

She, I can't say her name anymore, was wearing white. A long white dress that flowed in the breeze. How I wish I was that breeze. To be able to rush around her playfully. To gently hover over her breasts and cheekily rush up her dress. To flow in a manner that let out a harmony that made nature stan up and listen.

I wish I was an alien, at home behind the sun,
I wish I was the souvenir you kept your house key on.
I wish I was the pedal break that you depended on.
I wish I was the verb "to trust", and never let you down.

Should I really think of those things after such a long time? Why do I still do it? I wish I could stop. I wish I could stop. I wish it was that easy.