monday evening meanderings

after tomorrow they held a talent show as if we were in high school. it was funny to me, that even in our adulthood we were too ashamed to admit wanting to stand out and be admired for something other than what paid the bills. i feel old with these people. very old and out of touch with what they deem important. all i care about is love so everything i see attempts to bring all of these efforts to that place. i want to feel special too but not for my talents because one day they should melt like ice, taking a form undesirable to those incapable of withstanding heat. but the child still alive wants to play, to clap at our differences and similarities without assigning them a value.

after tomorrow they’d awoken in an indispensable kind of peace, the kind that comes after lovemaking, when everything in that moment and those immediately following make sense. i recognize their connection and effort not to be envious, not to judge their love as ignorant youth in action. i’m a failure as the blindfold melts similar to the ice, justice becoming little more than an ancient cup too rusted to balance their gifts against what time remains to wrap and make them purposeful to those unaware their talent needs no stage.

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