You have given me the gift I was waiting for. It doesn't matter that I have waited for decades. It doesn't matter that I gave it to myself. It doesn't matter that it was always there for the taking. Waiting.
Paris is about the past, isn't it? Plaques on decaying buildings. Preservation. Your voice echoing in my head. Sweetheart. Over and over in your tremulous voice. The vibrations still hold. Reassuring me. In my own voice, I echo yours.
At the street corner, there is a sudden shift in the wind. Something lifts.As my vision worsens, I can see more clearly with my body. It moves on its own. Urges me forward. As it moves, I am lightened. Something is carried off by the wind. I don't jump up to catch it. It is gone forever. Going back to where it never really existed. Never was even a shadow. Or even, a shadow of a shadow.
Paris is about the past, isn't it? Plaques on decaying buildings. Preservation. Your voice echoing in my head. Sweetheart. Over and over in your tremulous voice. The vibrations still hold. Reassuring me. In my own voice, I echo yours.
At the street corner, there is a sudden shift in the wind. Something lifts.As my vision worsens, I can see more clearly with my body. It moves on its own. Urges me forward. As it moves, I am lightened. Something is carried off by the wind. I don't jump up to catch it. It is gone forever. Going back to where it never really existed. Never was even a shadow. Or even, a shadow of a shadow.
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