(off mourning)

My brain is that girl found again, so many years too late and leaving for once in her life as whole as she might ever be and in her wake lies the petty pace of what madmen cry out dreaming.

It is no small thing to say that a man has lived his life if to hold himself once beside beauty. without the trappings of love or lust or a longing to reach out and touch what, for so long, has only lived in his mind.

And i am lucky.

Goddamn lucky, in fact.

Because i have known beauty the likes of which no fascination could ever prepare me. images that swell in my heart every day that i breathe, the weight of which one day will crush me.

And i'll be ready.

Smiling wide and satisfied because i know i've had every reason to be alive.