January 21, 2003

After the rain

There is an odd puddle with three different skies reflected on it. Cool breeze from the south creates gentle ripples on them as I look at it and smile. The fairy of time gently empties her basket of broken mirrors into the puddle. There are so many faces of you etched on them. They smile back at me as the fairy vanishes with the last drops of unpracticed salty pearls that I manage to squeeze.

Would you remember me for the things that I said or would you remember me for the things that I did not say? Would you remember all the laugher that I spilt carelessly or would you remember the tears that I never gave away? Would you remember the times that mattered or would you remember anything at all?

This road looks all so familiar with figures familiar disappearing down the misty, muddy path. Stop. Take a step back and yet another. Gradually everything fades and then only the white, a misty white is left.

This time I know it won't come back at me and I am happy for once, just for that.

What's the sense in losing ground
A hard sun is never hard to find
Just close your eyes, Turn your face to the wall,
And you'll be fine
- All Your Tears by Mojave3