lamb

context is everything.

the thing is that, we create the context, and that makes every little, miniscule and minute detail significant and meaningful.

two souls sharing the same side of a square, stained glass-topped table, almost as if we were sitting across from two equally-translucent ghosts.

from where i sit, this is where she begins and i end.

i can feel our resentment-laden conversation dissolving into the chromatic and kaleidoscopic sea that holds our ceramic wares like tiny toy boats on the constant verge of capsizing.

the only thing that exists in my mind are her tired eyes perfectly framed in a face that is a representation of everything that i am not.

her tired, tired eyes.

she is everything that i am not, and i remain completely content knowing that devastating fact.

i will not aspire to be something that i cannot honestly and faithfully represent.

with a hook, line, and sinker, we fall apart into our respective jigsaw puzzle pieces.