She was a slender thing
With sandy hair and a face
Angled down to the left of the sidewalk,
Coyly making a demand of the sky
To lift her attention.
For five whole minutes I was hers.
I loved her intensely as we drifted by
On a balmy Brisbane midnight
In a way, allured by seasoned callousness,
Escaping from the ever-changing constant
To a pro-noun of
All that was more real
Than all this other stuff
Which can't keep me awake at night
But shimmers in my dreams
As my life inside
Refutes all I refute
By showing me the truth
In a painted form
So vaguely clear I know
Something is still wrong,
And the escapes don't work
So sleep just becomes another thing which I avoid;
For the anguish is much more
Pleasant than the void.
She was alternatively attractive -
And how many times have I written that
Without really knowing the meaning?
But for that second,
In the abscess of that missed connection,
I knew all the love
Of all the echoes in the world,
And all the nonsense,
All the stuff which preoccupies,
All the pain,
And all the hate,
And all the thoughts
For thinking's sake -
Fell down.
Like the twin towers.
Like the walls of jericho.
Like the iron curtain.
Like an epileptic.
And I knew then
That it is just stuff
Which we construct to construe a meaning from.
And really, we are all
Just scavengers,
Walking through a rubbish tip
Looking for treasure.
And it doesn't make me feel better.
But it changes the way I can deal with it.
And it makes it okay
That she never even knew
I existed.