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Friday, November 19, 2010

my friends

you walk casually, your body moving in a slight swagger. It is as though time had never been imprinted on your mind, your body relaxed, moving to the pattern of your steps. Your face releases tension, forehead unbuttoning as you involantarily smile at something I've said. Those understanding eyes meet mine and your lips curve in a grin you don't want to repress. I like you this way, and I sigh, the pleasure becoming a temporary pain that tattoos my facial muscles and makes my gut a dead weight.
I love that you love what is good, and I worry about your penchant for what is borderline.

...

you're wearing a red jacket today. Some number on the front, something about children again. You care so much that I can see your care, like a set of weights too heavy for you, pressing on your mind and closing in on the edges of your vision. Those eyes of yours betray some deep hurt behind them. Something so corrosive that it is gnawing away at you and you can't altogether cover it up. It shows in the way you tilt your head, your chin held high, and the way your mouth turns down, tucked tightly into your face. That pain is so clear to me and all I want to do is to make you feel better. I want you to tell me what is dragging you down, blackness, and I would listen. I want that God would build an inferno inside of you, so that your mind and body would radiate the swelling joy that he gives.

...

you are always thinking. Your eyes, so alert tonight and darting, always flitting from one face to the next, and sometimes staring into space as your mind thinks loudly behind the back of your eyes. I think about the soft, feminine curve of your jaw line, your full lips and caressing hair. You are so pretty and perhaps you think you never will be, never enough. That temperament of yours can be misleading. Your thoughts run deep and sometimes full, branching, but you are nervous of them. They are so tightly bound up in you that if they were uttered they would be too fragile to last. And you are so eager. Your body sways forward when you are excited, your face enthused and your eyes widen as you talk to us. You think about me and care, and I am amazed at the love I see in your gifts to me. I am always surprised when you want to talk and listen to me.

...

you. you are so passionate. I feel that I could never reach the bottom of your soul and your mind that is so deeply interested in yourself and the world that you have created for yourself. You are engrossed, but sometimes you pause to peer out into the world outside of yourself. Those are the times when you become depressed because you see what we see more often and you must fit what you see into your own life or else be false to yourself. You deserve happiness and you find it in ways that surprise you sometimes.

...

and you. When I see you in my mind it is your smile and your hair that I envision. Your hair, brown-black, curly and unbrushed and long, ripples down your back. Your smile is almost apologetic. Sometimes it seems that your whole face is relieved to be smiling, the slight tension in the muscles in your face smooth as your mouth widens and your eyes crinkle. You are so determined to be you, some of the time. Other times you are so happy to be being you so effortlessly - those are the times my mind takes a step back, looks at who you are and loves you completely. I am so happy to see these changes in you. I have always liked your daring, your courageousness in carelessness. But I can see the way your mind is being fine tuned, and the way you are beginning to think is halting the usual progression of your thoughts. You care enough about the truth to respect it with your attention, as much as you can now. Truth holds you back from doing and saying what you might have done and said before. That inspires me.

I am in love with you all.
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