I sit here sweating. The heat of this house has reached inside me and forced me out. Life has been giving me the things I told it I wanted. I was not specific enough.
Mondays always surprise me. I end up places before I realize I have left. Today I found myself inside my head. I must have climbed through a window to get there. I know I didn't open any doors.
I was sitting in the grass watching my life unfold on the flitting wings of a sphinx moth. I told him he was beautiful. He didn't notice how much more I could see in him than all the other people. They walked by without noticing. I knew he was more than just wings.
His interest in me was slightly more than lackluster. He used me as a sounding board for dreams about flying. But when it came to falling, he wasn't willing to take the leap. At least not with me. At least not yet.
This made me retreat even farther into myself. But I still left all the windows open, just in case something happened to fall in. Instead there were knocks at the door. The peep hole showed me traveling salesmen that never traveled. In every instance they received a humbling "I'm not interested" and backed their gas fed beast off my land.
Still I wait. My beautiful moth has not returned. He no longer shows views of my dreams on his wings. He never really did. I imagined them there. He has picture shows playing of another girl's dreams. He will always be willing to leap for her. She showed him there is nothing to fear from falling.
Maybe Tuesday he will fly out of her window and fall into mine. We will watch our own picture show unfold.
No comments:
Post a Comment