{you} michael bazzett Have you noticed the word solitude, how lovely it sounds? The almost-kiss of the T and the crooning you. Given your discretion, I imagine it’s likely you’ve also noticed the word isolation isn’t lovely: the despair of the I moving toward desolation. It’s good to share this with you, here in the kitchen a cup of green tea sending steam into the light, turning the way two hands might in continuation of a gesture. Or perhaps the tendrils move like fingers of rain if rain had fingers. It could be beautiful but you’re not here to help figure it so I’ll decide alone upon the twining hands, because this is a prayer and you are the unknown god out there on the couch or maybe standing in the aisle your scarf beginning to unravel as you look for something necessary in the slender volume barely trembling in your hand. |