05.22.08
the restless memory unresolved
earson: funk/say tonight, fight the break of dawn, come tomorrow
eyeson: entertainment mag, CNN, shear genius on bravo, WoW, golden girls! children & old men
thoughton: the value is broken
eyes completely blue, pupils bottomless, wells, full of thought of course there was no denying this .. but thought unstrung and disconnected, coarsely wobbling, not quite struggling .. the flesh around would occasionally squint as though the delicate weave of your memory were attempting to come together but the knots - quite sliding free - not quite mending, and the words that you made meant nothing.
your hair is feathers on your head and your hearing aids squeal, your hands are skeletal and restless. fingertips fretting around the edges of blankets, tugging little maniacs they are the workers that are meant to mend your mind but cannot reach and quest for connectivity in fabric, in skin, in air.
your feet constantly on a quest to be free of the bed, even when you sleep they twitch and toes wriggle, heels twist until calves slip and ankles hover mid-air .. you lay quite sideways and ask to call your family, you wonder what work there is to be done, the threads still vaguely touching and slipping behind your eyelashes.
you call me 'mama' in the dark, calling for you wife, you ask me to make sure all the doors are locked .. you call me sophia later, and ask me for the flashlight, and say you'll do it your goddamned self if i can't.
you tug carelessly at the ropes - tubes - tenuous connections to everything in your solid space attempting to be free, not knowing these things are the very tethers that rope you to earth.
the sunset beside you is arcing, you're completely awake but you're completely asleep. i tuck you in, i put your feet back into their places .. i check your wires and tubes to make sure you haven't tugged them free, i remind you who i am and i make sure you're safe. i sit and wait for your eyes to refocus only moments later and ask me again about the locks .. i would give you keys, i would give you tools, i would give you the loom, i would give you the freedom if it were mine to give.
written at 4:56 a.m.
