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There is Always a Love Story

by Curt Allday


























((you had you were you had lovely eyes, you had you were you had lovely eyes))

the droplets were parachuting
from the tips of the leaves
of sycamore trees
moving to the missions of the wind and breeze

as we


were mythic
never to stray
scattering their sermons like amber waves,
sucking out the marrow from the imperialist haze
and gaze

at the fetal dove
strung up in love
constantly distracted by the media maze
lights and magic from knick knacks to cabbage
on the outside of our window panes

as
the veins

popped out yer chest to my behest
it would never be the one you ever stressed
guessing and confessing while the moon decides and chides
whether you or I
or him
or why
would i pick him or the sky

I said neither because I

am the fibonacci sequence hyphied up on speed
hear the pitter patter mimic its numerical creed
while weaving through the sequence of infinity's weeds
growing under the canopy of your watered trees

go around and around but the fog's making me see
the apartment in the horizon coming up on me and
the hills still hide the path where you and I were almost "we"
the notice on the door staring back at me
as we

were mystic
fair
game

spoken--
with my phone passing over our apartment like a fighter plane
and the car's sitting idle
the nights events blur and blender the title,
in the lobes of my whacked out brain,
in many ways, I don't feel the same, I feel disconnected, spiraling all around, above, looking down on creation with the sun above, already burnt away and gone, ash to ash, never meant to last, but look, the light keeps blinking

at some erratic pace,
never a pattern to decipher, only to focus on paying the piper
with only two blinks left,
can we at least try and erase?
--stop spoken--

the minutes become notches
engraved and saved for a rainy day
while the grey rises like flies
buzzing behind our ceiling, revealing our fights,
our fury, the slights and blurry figments
the mention of our memories

then or now
it was so real i can feel
you blinking on and on
behind the fog
a ghost, a premonition
calling me towards you
as you
move
towards me and I breathe you in, and
hit
repeat

only to listen

to the same damn song

again

((you had you were you had lovely eyes, you had you were you had lovely eyes))

10/24/2006

Author's Note: this is my re-edit- probably will do it again, but i am happy with it- basically, i drove up this long hill in san francisco, probably a half to one mile up in a circle, it was raining, and the road led to my old apt where my ex and i lived for a brief period of time until we broke up, haven't spoken in over a year, haven't been there in a year, this is the feelong of a spiral moving up through the clouds to a destination that has nothing but a metaphysical presence waiting for you- that was my feeling

Posted on 10/24/2006
Copyright © 2024 Curt Allday

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