Wayne walks over to me and puts his arms around me. So gentle,
so loving. The image of a cylinder comes to me as he puts his
arms around me. I am that cylinder. It's a silly thought as I
perceive a cylinder as bieng big, non-mobile, yet for some
strange reason, I know that because of its shape, it is easy to
embrace. I have mixed feelings about being a cylinder. A
cylinder can be warm and cold. Cold outside, and warm inside,
like a gaz cylinder. I see the cylindrical form like a gaz
furnace.
We are both in tune with each other. It is like a dream. He
apologizes for the incident which occured during our youth and I
say I forgive him. It was a lack of communication.
Previous
Next
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment