amos

today at the office, somebody is playing a Tori Amos song. beautiful.

i’d kill to experience this moment: out on the veranda or beach, just listening to her songs, and finally reading my “Gift from the Sea” book or just scribbling on my journal. you would be beside me, reading or scraping sauce from a saucer. you would probably ask a question or two about a painting you saw. your eyes would shine, and the light in them would be so mellow it’d make me crawl inside myself and indulge in a sea of sweetness. you would not know this. i would just nod at you, and give you allusions, or stories i keep in my mind. all the sad poetry i’ve read would just be ash in the wind, and i would tear a sheet from my journal and make a brown paper boat for you. you would tuck it somewhere. i knew you would keep it, this certainty matching the hidden songs in the summer wind.

“Sometimes I think you want me to touch you. How can I when you build the great wall around you. In your eyes I saw the future. Together, you just look away in the distance….” – China, Tori Amos

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