moment to moment.

i lost it again that moment i meant to capture tried to focus but my eyes were closed the blink of an eye, like a whisper in that instant, things changed the light shifted, or someone sneezed the earth rotated a fraction then it was off i thought i could write about but none of the words i’d ever heard came close to describing how it looked, felt, smelled, tasted. i tried to make some up but i’m not good with inventions i felt the surge of language right to my fingers ready to commit a crime of memory to betray the sins of my observation and sentence me to read them over and over and yet those letters, they stopped short no matter how i arranged them, they weren’t quite right didn’t speak for me, only for my idea of me and then i thought i could say it speak it aloud to myself work out the kinks and the clumsy metaphors but all the beautiful scripts in my mind became garbled and foreign on my tongue no longer helping me to recount and rehearse but exposing my penchant for overthinking that which ought to be a reflex the feelings come easily too easily, sometimes they cripple me with their colors of love the energy of their existence the pain of their despair becomes my own but to try to hold on to them they become spiderwebs, snapped back to the edge, where they attach to something solid never to be reconnected in their perfect, natural arrangement in searching for them, they never come when i’m not looking, they caress my skin but to gather and adore them to keep and analyze them to hide and deny them destroys the very point of their genesis. and i am left alone again, either better or worse, for having crossed paths with them meaning to capture those moments, but forever unable to do so then needing to, all the more.


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