SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Accepting Offers - Tuesday, Sept. 26, 2017
Indian/Polish Wedding - Thursday, Sept. 21, 2017
The Builder - Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2017
Rupert Part II - Sunday, Sept. 10, 2017


Monday, Dec. 20, 2004 @ 12:10 am
The Unattainable



Under the hot lights of the stage, judgment, bringing my flute to my lips. My sound fills my brain and rings out into the hall... it swiftly flows between the rows of faces and fidgiting hands.

Roses in my arms. The air around me smells like roses. The blue roses your brought me, blue like your eyes. I screamed aloud as I drove away. Confusion, excitment, dread...

I sang the Swallow out in silver that night. Each note an ache - a beat of my tumbling heart, falling from my chest. I let it fall, as I drove across four suburbs to see you.

You opened the door and you were luminous in the candleglow. Everything sparkled and shimmered a little, even your prairie blue eyes. We danced around the coffee table and the Christmas tree, savouring our stolen time.

You held me as the rains fell around us. I kissed the rain that ran down your nose, kissed the tears that came into the corners of your eyes. Why did you cry? This is how much I care. You hardly know me but you are already afraid to lose me.

You're wonderful, to me. Surprised? Me too.




Roots | Shoots