Friday, May 10, 2013

Flicka and Fanny Intro

Why am I here, where I am at, this place, domesticated dogs, small children, these trappings of an ordinary life.  I dip for a moment into the silence of the mind, the horrid places that at once are subtle and sublime, only to be reminded by the pater of chatter that I am not what I used to be.

That was then, and what use do you serve me now, with the wind beneath your wings, away and doing things.  Even then, of what use were you to me.  There was a brief moment when I entertained the thought of your physical space.  A fleeting moment when a spark was ignited, almost to a flame, quelled with steel and presence of mind.  Even now, I could see no other purpose for your existence but for the loin of your thighs.

This is said with the knowledge that you are far too far from the point of return, and I am far too far from caring any more.  Then what of all these other mundane entertainments.  What are they but distractions from the simple and pure.  How do these serve me, or is it I that serves them now.  I believe it is the latter rather than the former, as I am no longer the former that once I was.

And now you know too much, and now the edge has been dulled, and now I bow to the victor, as the light that once shown in my eyes dims to the death that is too soon to come.  While there is still more to say on some other day, the rest is all but imparted wisdom for the girl and the boy.

JD
2013.9.5

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