![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Apr. 6th, 2014 11:56 pmAs real decisions grow so far apart you've always forgotten the last,
As the time increases in which decisions could be forced by someone (not you) who knew to,
As the scripts handed down the line to you grow more smeared and the pages become mixed and disagree,
As the overlapping tents above you are held up by more and more densely interwoven arms such that it's uncertain anything else would fall down if you did,
As just what you might amount to to others squeezes free of ready labels and they grope past you in search of something surer,
Remember the bicycle beneath the hill of the holy place.
Remember the looks of welcome, both happy in the sun and secret in the shadows.
Remember the blue windows in the alleys of the scientists.
Remember how the water nudged the boat as though to know it.
Remember how wanting to use a thing changes its color.
And the colors of everything else for a time and a space.
As the time increases in which decisions could be forced by someone (not you) who knew to,
As the scripts handed down the line to you grow more smeared and the pages become mixed and disagree,
As the overlapping tents above you are held up by more and more densely interwoven arms such that it's uncertain anything else would fall down if you did,
As just what you might amount to to others squeezes free of ready labels and they grope past you in search of something surer,
Remember the bicycle beneath the hill of the holy place.
Remember the looks of welcome, both happy in the sun and secret in the shadows.
Remember the blue windows in the alleys of the scientists.
Remember how the water nudged the boat as though to know it.
Remember how wanting to use a thing changes its color.
And the colors of everything else for a time and a space.
