1:55 p.m. - 2004-10-15
Farewell to a different kind of arms.
A Farewell to Your Arms:::::
Sailing to sea, to the deepest part of it, in the small hours after mid-night. Standing close to the edge of the boat, I hold you in a vase, your body weighs down my hands. Correcting my posture, looking over the edge, stomache feeling tumultuous, I hold you over the sea. Suddenly I saw Greek dinners together at my grandparents house. Nightly chats before tucking me in to bed. There's a riot in my belly, an uproar in my brain. I step back and sit. I hold the flowers of your life so close to my chest and take the smallest deep breath. I won't spread you where I can't reach you, I can't let you go, not just yet. Je vais vous manquer. Il a manque de se noyer.
