sunset on the hudson last night.
waves of cold air wafting in from the water, but it didn’t matter in the end.
i still don’t remember much of what i mumbled to you. you’ve always been good at getting me to talk when i least should speak. i sigh as i clumsily overstep the self-set boundaries. we argue lightly about whether the better description of this particular mistake is my “Biggest” or my “Favorite.”
i bury my face in hair and chests and arms and shoulders. “you’re the perfect height,” is the common response, though i’ve always felt that i come up short.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
– Leonard Cohen
i find the cracks that keep on growing.
it doesn’t matter what it means, but maybe it is that every year i fail at love.
i’m not sure if this is trying again,
but if so, it is with only faint knowledge of what failure might look like.
you’d think i’d be a pro at avoidance by now.
but, Beckett lends his wisdom.
I hope you remember that I’ve oft quoted this Sam Beckett and believe it in everything
(live it in everything)
I do, make, share, love:
Ever tried. Ever failed.
Try again. Fail again. Fail better.
I’m not sure which it says about me:I neurotically re-attempt an act whose outcome I’ve experienced as failureorI persevere.