PHANTOM CHAPARRAL
Face it, it's all innocence, the things we might
have done or missed. That kiss at the stove, the
wandering hand on the backside, that wrinkle
in time where meanings have changed. There's no
Devil in the matter, mixing tapes and rhymes;
rather, it's all instead our own malfeasance and
slant of mind. The simple fact of lust, some
driving sexual divergence between different
portions of the same old world. 'I love you
for how you are not me,' is how we'd see
it phrased in some new age guidebook of
blather and air. But, as much as that is,
it too is probably true enough. What is
this life anyway, except an alternation
between moments in flux? You see
things one way, I see them another.
Aye, there's the crux.
No comments:
Post a Comment