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you can’t take a picture of this, it’s already gone

December 27, 2014

Remember that view from the BQE that stills your heart every time, a city laid out before you that someday, maybe, could be yours. Remember that morning you left, four years ago, spent the night driving around with boys you grew up with, remember the glint of sunlight off steel and glass.

Remember days and nights of good company, full bellies. “Too much fun”. The feeling of re-entering your own body after a long absence. A summer and fall of wild despair, a winter of reclamation.

Remember that boy, the sad one. Which sad one? Too many to name, with trouble on their brows, melancholia and ink weighing their bodies down.

Let them go. Touch upon each one with love in your thoughts, clutch, release.

A world full and ripe for the taking. A people to rescue. A new year to fill with lovers, with words.

You but arrive at the city to which you were destin’d—you hardly settle yourself to satisfaction, before you are call’d by an irresistible call to depart,
You shall be treated to the ironical smiles and mockings of those who remain behind you;
What beckonings of love you receive, you shall only answer with passionate kisses of parting,
You shall not allow the hold of those who spread their reach’d hands toward you
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