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By chris Date: 2008 Feb 26 Comment on this Work [[2008.02.26.22.23.17235]] |
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So your mama's from San Antone - the barrio, a place of great murals, I've been told - and daddy's from the Tennessee hills. From there - across all that land growing browner with each meridian, each mile - you've come here, to this place where a sometimes-river flows through a land of my sometime-dreams lately turned to nightmares. Yeah, she's messed me up but good, I tell you way too soon. You give helpful, well-meaning advice, ever the scales playing the great balancing act, ever the feminine reflection of myself - hardly a thing I thought I'd be attracted to and sure didn't want to be this time. But you play relationship advisor well for a time, and I continue to push my luck - which gets repaid finally with your cell number and a compliment the former once-and-forever love of mine never gave even once. So I will try, but it's much harder now with the realization of how it all is - how this life is like a cactus fruit to one lost in the desert: you pick it up because you are hungry and it looks harmless and good - but if your hands are bare you are left with spines in your palms and fingers too small to have seen and too numerous to ever pull out. |