My name is Casey

Like Most Revelations

It is the movement that incites the form,
discovered as a downward rapture--yes,
it is the movement that delights the form,
sustained by its own velocity.And yet

it is the movement that delays the form
while darkness slows and encumbers; in fact
it is the movement that betrays the form,
baffled in such toils of ease, until

it is the movement that deceives the form,
beguiling our attention--we supposed
it is the movement that achieves the form.
Were we mistaken? What does it matter if

it is the movement that negates the form?
Even though we give (give up) ourselves
to this mortal process of continuing,
it is the movement that creates the form.

Richard Howard


You turn to me with frozen lips
Your hands are icy cold
Your eyes burn bright against the frostbit sky
You never seemed more lovely than you do tonight
Pale on the horizon,
Like leaves frozen on the snow
Our two shadows merge inseperably
And time stands still as its pierced with cold

The more I live
The more I know
What's simple is true
I love you

There's a warmth in my heart
That haunts me when you're gone
Mend me to your side,
Never let go
So time knows nothing
We'll never grow cold
The more I live
The more I know
What's simple is true
I love you
Twilight descends on our silhouette
How soon spring comes
How soon spring forgets
I wanna hold time, say it'll never begin
Old man winter, be our friend
Old man winter, be our friend
The more I live
The more I know
What's simple is true
What's simple is true
I love you
I love you

designed by jo naz

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

 

It's been a while since I've written my thoughts here... likely due to the time that there hasn't been much time for thinking.

On the one hand, this means I have less time to miss him... on the other hand this means I have less time to talk to him.

On the other other hand, both of those things are bad, as even though it is bitter-sweet to miss him, it's still partly sweet.

It makes me feel almost more secure with myself to know that he missed me after not talking to me for so long... this seems almost heartless, and i never want him to be anything but happy, but i find it so hard to believe that he could desire me... it's hard for me not to take comment's like jill's to heart; not so much that he loves her, but that i he tolerates me. Off course I know better than this, and of course i know he loves me... "but still," i think, "you've done it in the past with purely moral intentions, and he is a portrait of maturity. What are you?" at this point i allow my heart and logic to regain control from my insecurities and remember that i am, in fact, the girl he loves.

It still stuns me, this idea that i get to see his face on saturday. It sounds odd, but I feel like I've been with him all this time, as if he's never left my side and our skin has never stopped touching.. and yet my body yearns for him as if I'd never touched him before, my memories resembling fantasies my body telling mistruths. He is so close and yet so far. However, I can feel his chest beating within my heart... I can hear his whisper in my ears... and when i slip almost into sleep, i feel his body laying next to mine.

Perhaps it is this sort of delusion that has kept me safe for the last few months, and perhaps when we think of eachother, our bodies cease to exist seperately. Perhaps this simultaneous yearning bridges the physical distance between because our emotions break the barriers of time and space. Perhaps we've figured it out after all...

I'm not sure... but on saturday, regardless, my fantasies become realities. My passing fancies become tangible... and my dreams i've had so faithfully each night come true in the smile of his face and the warmth of his hands and the taste of his lips... these are the things my mind can't quite replicate... and that which is replicated is but a fraction of a glimmer in comparison to reality.

:-) Our love is off the richter scale.

I love you |8:14 PM