chasing shadows again

{July 26, 2007}   not dead

I have hundreds of things I wanted to tell you that have shattered fearfully when they leapt for the sky from my throat.  I have a kaleidoscope of brilliantly colored shards of thoughts and words and dreams and hope on my floor.  They cut me and they are beautiful and I have learned to sleep on the bookcase.  When I wake up the sun sparkles through them and paints the walls in shifting colored light.

When I learn to paint the colors into words again, I will speak.


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