Sunday, May 04, 2008

"That is always characteristic, I guess, of the seizure of the strongest love you can feel: pity, and the wish to die for a person, because there isn't anything you can do for them that is at all measurable to you love."
- James Agee, Let Us Now Praise Famous Men

There is truth in this. Love. So unattainable, like palming the skies of blue in your hand only to have it slip away, gradually, forcefully.

And you wonder if hanging onto clouds will be worth the effort. When the vapors vanish at my fingertips, nothing but cold, clammy hands, and the infinite fall, plummeting, plummeting...

But falling always is the easy part. The downward momentum that cannot be helped, and as soon as the inevitability washes over, the wind chilling my ears becoming the air I breathe...


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