Wednesday, November 15, 2006

All your secrets






impossible songs








impossible songs


All your secrets are out there, you just don’t know about it yet, like the flowers in a Gypsy garden, like a tree hanging over your sleepy head, like a shadow hiding in a corner. All so unguarded and unremembered. Secrets that float and talk, that takes no encouragement. Grave and static, hollow and dangerous, creeping in and around the edges. Wherever you live you are seen when you think you are unseen and followed when you think the road is clear. Lights shine in your rear view mirror, occupants grow uneasy, and somebody sits on your back bumper for miles and then is gone, quickly. A phone rings in a room and then stops as you pick it up, a curtain wafts in the breeze, a door closes by itself, a dog barks. Where did the lipstick on the coffee cup rim come from? How is that paper in the bin? Where is the loose change I put down on the table? Who sent that letter? Where am I really going? All your secrets are out there, fighting for a place and fighting for space in a drowned pool. You think you are a hunter, but then you are hunted, you think you are on top of things but then you find yourself far behind the pack. Wolves and sheep meet and hold long conversations, sticks and stones build structures, names are written on walls in graffiti islands and public ruins. Posters are torn down or plastered over boarded up windows. Decay is structural and steady; truth is at the end of a tunnel that you never can reach. All your secrets are out there, all your secrets are mine...for I saw them first.

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