Choking on a Four-Letter Word.
7/15/04
Naturally,
semiconsciously,
I've been searching for
another love story,
and I think I've found it:
and one much less tragic
than the last one;
just like magik,
could she be the one?
And the synchronicites
between an old California dream
and a new, dawning actuality
I must admit, just blow my mind,
but this new story, it's
already different:
I hold on with
all my might,
all my mind,
all my heart,
and every damn
instinct -- everything in me
screams out for me to
just merge with her.
And I remind myself
that I'll never forgive myself
if I manage to fuck this up:
`Don't you let her
slip on through your fingers
like grains of sand drawn down
by gravity and cast away
by a desert storm.'
And a voice from
the side of me speaks:
`Don't jump in just yet.
Don't fall too deep, too fast.
Take it slow, take it step by step
and day by day, now, take it easy
and don't go overboard.'
It's haunting,
like an echo steadily mocking me,
like two voices in my head,
forever arguing.
And then that word,
it pops up again and from her
soft, tender lips it flows so naturally,
so semiconsciously, in a
convincing voice, so elegantly,
and I feel the compulsion
to echo the word
back to her,
but I'm choking.
I cannot respond.
I cannot be a hypocrite.
`Don't jump in just yet.
Don't fall too deep, too fast.'
Compulsions are strong here to
jump to conusions about my
feelings for her, but it will
not escape my mouth.
The word is kept in a box
in the back of my throat
in reservation, and it rises
with caution, with caution,
and maybe I'm just paranoid
and maybe it's just semantics
but I want to make sure the word
means to me what it means to her
and maybe it does,
but I cannot believe for
feeling is not believing,
but as I was hoping this
trust is growing.
And I hold back because I
want to be sure, got to be sure.
I just cannot trust anyone, anything,
far less my own intense feelings.
`Don't you let her
slip on through your fingers --'
-- but --
`Don't jump in just yet.
Don't fall too deep, too fast.'
I waited too long last time,
but I just cannot rush to that word now.
7/15/04
Naturally,
semiconsciously,
I've been searching for
another love story,
and I think I've found it:
and one much less tragic
than the last one;
just like magik,
could she be the one?
And the synchronicites
between an old California dream
and a new, dawning actuality
I must admit, just blow my mind,
but this new story, it's
already different:
I hold on with
all my might,
all my mind,
all my heart,
and every damn
instinct -- everything in me
screams out for me to
just merge with her.
And I remind myself
that I'll never forgive myself
if I manage to fuck this up:
`Don't you let her
slip on through your fingers
like grains of sand drawn down
by gravity and cast away
by a desert storm.'
And a voice from
the side of me speaks:
`Don't jump in just yet.
Don't fall too deep, too fast.
Take it slow, take it step by step
and day by day, now, take it easy
and don't go overboard.'
It's haunting,
like an echo steadily mocking me,
like two voices in my head,
forever arguing.
And then that word,
it pops up again and from her
soft, tender lips it flows so naturally,
so semiconsciously, in a
convincing voice, so elegantly,
and I feel the compulsion
to echo the word
back to her,
but I'm choking.
I cannot respond.
I cannot be a hypocrite.
`Don't jump in just yet.
Don't fall too deep, too fast.'
Compulsions are strong here to
jump to conusions about my
feelings for her, but it will
not escape my mouth.
The word is kept in a box
in the back of my throat
in reservation, and it rises
with caution, with caution,
and maybe I'm just paranoid
and maybe it's just semantics
but I want to make sure the word
means to me what it means to her
and maybe it does,
but I cannot believe for
feeling is not believing,
but as I was hoping this
trust is growing.
And I hold back because I
want to be sure, got to be sure.
I just cannot trust anyone, anything,
far less my own intense feelings.
`Don't you let her
slip on through your fingers --'
-- but --
`Don't jump in just yet.
Don't fall too deep, too fast.'
I waited too long last time,
but I just cannot rush to that word now.
