Thursday, January 14, 2010


We drink the stars
with the promise of 1000
lifetimes crawling beneath our skin, coursing through
our veins, screaming,
"you cannot possibly be prepared for this journey."

We rise to the challenge; we are young and more than naive enough
to believe we can do anything.

We loved as though we were Romeo and Juliet ourselves,
as though the universe had been crafted with care
simply for our eyes to see.

We cried as though we had once owned a breathtaking
pair of wings, only to have them


leaving us stranded on the ground forevermore - only able
to look at the sky and not feel it; not be with it.

We laughed as though we had single-handedly
found the cure for old age and thrown it out
like a yellowed newspaper.

We danced as though we were in possession of the
very last true and beautiful rock CD on the planet;
as though we could only hear it once more.

We ran as though it was outlawed and we had only
to feel the breeze - the breeze we created - whip lovingly and madly
across our tired faces.

We kissed as though our very spirits counted on it,
as though we would die right then and there unless we told each other
without speaking
just how much we couldn't bear to think of living our lives separately.

We lived as though we had lost and
would lose again unless we got up early to see the sunrise;
unless we created a place in this world for ourselves. We lived.

"That's all very well and good,"
whispered the promise within our blood, "but what
shall you do with the other 999 lives?"

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