Prehistory

the author's getting waaay too comfortable. this was something he wrote for himself.

i only write to you

when in need.

but i'm literally out of ideas here.

i have exhausted this topic to the brink of madness

and then i wet my big toe

and vow to never dive in.

there's really not much else, is there?

no reason to even speak

or to know

or to flirt

or to touch

or to kiss

or to feign ignorance.

the past's meteoric fall is why.

so what will we call the time before we were history?

for i've wrapped you in myelin sheath;

mummified and crystallized

in a subconscious sarcophagus.

never to be unraveled

and never to be discovered.

yet here you are

and there you were:

meddling in my meditation.

i cant believe i'm still upset.

so what will we call the time before we were history?

because we were never anything, were we.

the venom is dissolving my teeth

and my tongue is choking my throat

and my breath is the toilet water of that blessed, blessed ion in ale.

but why would i scream at that which i held so dear?

i don't understand.

along with the reptilian brain,

an unsolved mystery.

was it love?

of course.

is it love?

it's run its course.

i'm so sorry katherine,

what will we call the time before we were history?

and why have i made it so important all these years?

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is quite good...reminds me of the beats, maybe robert creeley...so expressive in reacting to a lost love..and questioning the motivation for ever being together in the first place.

i feel that way towards someone..but before we were history, i think we were history in the making...and not a history i would want to ever read about.

nicely done...

jacob

[Jason Henry]

you saying that it's a history you wouldn't want to read about only made me more interested haha. thanks, jacob.