Tip toeing into one, finishing it carefully and skilfully to embark onto the next which is strangely linked to the one before. These consequential concentric circles – mingling, connected yet so varying and different. No walk on any one if them has ever felt the same.
This one’s over, smoothly I must say and in the same way it started.
I see myself and my mother walk into stores, look at exorbitantly priced clothes – admire them and walk away. It feels like yesterday.
I wonder why we have always done this. Looking at pretty things makes us happy.
The friends today are gone, so have the nights of smoke and gushing liquid in my veins. Like they never ever even were.
It’s us, back to where we started. Completing and finishing just one of them.
I wonder how many more I have to walk and how many more friends I will meet along the way. How many will walk forward with me and how many will be packed into boxes.
I wonder if by the end of this one my mother and I will still gallivant into malls and look at pretty things.
I wonder if by the end of this one my mother and I will still gallivant into malls and look at pretty things.
Like time never passed us by.
1 comment:
circles are good, they dont have dark corners.... some have higher highs and few lower lows.... but none the same.....
friends will come and go... the 'packed into boxes' ones are just giving you time and space to find which fit the boxes better....
veins also need a change they also have a life!!
Post a Comment