The architecture of the city is plural and restless. Your voice comes and goes. The sky was pale blue today. White here and there. Clouds. Whispers. Our dialog is more vivid now. I still see how intense your eyes are. You come and go from me. But I know you never really leave. At least, that is the illusion that keeps me - going? I see patterns. They make sense. Like you made sense a while ago. I can't reason with Love, can I? Love, this palpable, irrational measurement of attachment and desire. I don't know if you are the same anymore. The same I knew. Did I ever know you? It doesn't matter because you fit like a symptom fits a disease. You fit my fantasy. My fantasy was so concrete and so tangible. I play us in my head. If I had. If you had. But history doesn't rewrite itself. I can't walk down the street to try and find you. Unchanged sea. Under the same sheltering sky. I love you.
Have you considered having this available on your desk. You might consider re-working the title to make it even more consumer friendly. I suggest - "Before asking the Librarian, please read first; then, if your question isn't answered you may ask it if you must".
ReplyDeleteRambie, that's a good idea, but I can see problems with that approach as well. The public doesn't read signs. So, I am back at square one. Maybe I should start a READING SIGN campaign, what do you think?
ReplyDelete