I listen to the CD you mixed for me a lot. I listen to it and I feel differently when I listen to it. I like the way it makes me feel. Playful and almost happy. Still I play Bach’s Cello Suite #4 in E flat and I suddenly remember who I am. My real self. My unchanging nature.
You have been consuming my stray thoughts. Something must be done with all those messy trails of speculation, my daydreams, my hum of synapses firing. You have tied them up neatly. Now I am working to untangle them from you. It is pointless to bother with the scalding heat of my jealousy, my inability to make myself anything but what I am for you. The ridiculous comparisons in which I am inevitably reduced to something peripheral.
Without you I am frayed, but something inside me is and will remain intact. You will never think about me as someone to be desired because that hard core of me is tuned to Bach’s Cello Suit #4 and you are not. It is a shame that you will not find me and the music beautiful. You miss the subtlety, you are distracted by your youthful dash into tomorrow. Go now. And don’t look back towards me. I will not wave. I will be turned in on myself. Tuned in to myself. I will be listening.
No comments:
Post a Comment