There is a name for no name.
I now knock your door with much less preconception than, say, two months ago. After all, panta rei hey - everything flows. The circle is broken, you said - some weeks ago. Then, sweet confessions, as we chew more hours in each other presence. We mark the time(s) as we transgress it. But last night, I have all the traces erased, part accidental, part brutal. Memories are nemesis. Knowing that it will end in some form of sadness. A little sailing, once I tried to give it a name. Act of labelling. But now, as doubt flashing, I shut the questioning. Panta rei - I whisper. Alles fliesst. A fine thing, moving. Let it be. Let it ..... BE.
[to hhg]
5 comments:
The Tanamur Guy wishes you well and would love some news of SE Asian nights. It'll be a New Year soon.
Hey Tanamur Guy
Glad you're still floating in the world's surface. The Stadium Girl left the damn den, moving to tbe bright lights of a new metropolis. It's been almost 2.5 years before I'll move again to another metropolis. Jakarta - as she visited last year - now sucks. Too much bling bling and amok people. I hurtle back now and then - after all, it's a 'home' - but strict for life's necessity.
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