it's been nice, but i'm done blogging. not that i don't enjoy it, because i do. i've wanted this blog, this retreat, for as long as i can remember, and it's lived up to my every expectation. i guess the soapbox just isn't for me.
so much to say. do they exist, the words, or am i too weak to find them? in my exhaustion, words crumble from my lips. the stars, slowly fading into the morning, sang to us.
nightswimming deserves a quiet night. the photograph on the dashboard, taken years ago, turned around backwards so the windshield shows. every streetlight reveals the picture in reverse. still, it's so much clearer. i forgot my shirt at the water's edge. the moon is low tonight.
nightswimming deserves a quiet night. i'm not sure all these people understand. it's not like years ago, the fear of getting caught, of recklessness and water. they cannot see me naked. these things, they go away, replaced by everyday.
nightswimming, remembering that night. september's coming soon. i'm pining for the moon. and what if there were two, side by side in orbit, around the fairest sun? that bright, tight, forever drum could not describe nightswimming.
you, i thought i knew you. you i cannot judge. you, i thought you knew me, this one laughing quietly underneath my breath. nightswimming.
the photograph reflects, every streetlight a reminder. nightswimming deserves a quiet night, deserves a quiet night.