When we were teenagers, we wanted to be the sky. Now all we want to do is go to red places.
Something about driving to the airport and how I used to weep inconsolably all the way home, when home was Santa Fe.
Something about the clouds slinking through the mountains this morning. Something about that sunlight and all that piercing bright. Something about deciding in the Teahouse bathroom that I’ll have to move back here after graduate school; something about yellow-orange leaves herding across the blacktop and that sweet brown expanse. Something about the dreams I’ve been having, something about Murray’s clear green eyes, something about the stature relaxing and the natural ability to receive the world here. Something about a Thanksgiving that filtered snow over us while we bounced off each other, the heat radiating, the incredible warmth. Something about love.
Something about knowing what home feels like, that which couldn’t feel less like home just a year ago. Something about how we change. Something.
unreliable narrator said,
December 1, 2008 at 6:56 pm
Something. Home.
jskah said,
December 3, 2008 at 2:19 pm
it’s such a strange deep color, isn’t it? something thick. so glad it was like this.