september laid her head down in the garden. i didn't watch her fall asleep. i was aware of the descent of october, and her cool breath upon my skin. but september sighed softly... and it grew warm again. white knuckles clenching the steering wheel... hidden prayers and petitions strewn across the sky like stars in a country summer night. wishing airplanes might somehow carry my heart's desires on a jet-stream to the divine. i say that with such disconnect that i sound unfamiliar. when my heartbeat is ever in his ear. my name tattooed upon his skin, with some indelible ink. i enter these gates with thanksgiving. for life. that i can lay my head down tonight with ease like september. and all is seen in an instant. armour falls down and i am simply a little girl looking for her daddy's arms.
the winds have blown across the pieces of sensibility in my mind and my thoughts are swept round like the dust... i beg for the waves to stop. waves of sea-sickness, waves of trouble, waves upon waves that toss my ship. and finally i acquiesce and let the waves become my rhythm, and i sing into the storm until it all becomes a song.
which brings me to this wooden floor in this town i call my present home.
i come with open arms. with forgiveness on my open hands.
and the city receives me with one hand delicate, soft and open and one hand ready to strike.
i can't calm down, for remembering the feeling of the iron in her fist.
i cling to forgiveness and weep to forget, but i cannot.
the thing is this...
i cannot make this new.
you promise it is.
so, make it so.