Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Familiarity and Time

(11:40 p.m.)

This is to experience the
persistence of memory in
real time--footsteps
matching the cadence
of inhale, exhale, and I

am nineteen years old again.
It's the middle of the night,
hot and humid (as Chicago
summers always are.  In

other words, a world that is
far away from here and now).

I am dizzy from the heat,
from the liquid courage in my
veins, from the boy holding my

hand, who kisses me on quiet
empty street corners with 
passionate abandon.  I picture,
then, what it would be like to

inhabit this space for myself--to
be here, in this city, making a 
life with him.  Sometimes,

you get exactly what you wanted.
And sometimes, it's even better

than you ever could have imagined.

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