photography

2004-02-01
I wanted to breathe but to create a force or a wind in such a vacuum would be too much of a disturbance. So I held a breath with every movement and I would swear that my steps were softer for it. None dare call it floating because I am real. I am not dreaming and flight is meant only for imagination. I felt the ground. It grabbed on through my shoes and set me spinning with the sky.

Up the steps I closed my eyes searching for a picture none too hard to find. A glimpse of someone that by now has become a poster in my mind. I laughed at my refusal to crawl and never feared a stumble or a crash. My shins were numb regardless. This was a time to celebrate my habits and thoughtless routines. I had no time to think of such trivialities. Every fool knows how to walk. How to step one foot above the other.

I would like to add the color to that photo. I could pass you the drink. Let me show you a dozen tricks to light that cigarette and you will be dazzled by feats I do with time. For maybe one day you will know I crept through the moments and changed that picture for all it was meant to be.