Monday, September 2, 2013

sov sött

my novel will be available in the upcoming days. alone in the car my father and i bought, discovering that people have noises living inside, awful noises that leave our lungs and guts when the desperation to scratch eternity becomes necessary. my cheekbones rosy and raw when i awoke and stared in the mirror. my beard is my father. my smile is my father. i will honor living.

one of my favorite apartment sounds is hearing trav and hannah making fun of each other outside my door. today, talia and i talked about laughter, we've always laughed, we did even on the phone, and it's my dad who gave me this ability. and she, dust covered, voice in thick soothing waves from a few naked days in the wild desert, she, the only one i could call. the day is alive, honor the day.

i brought up my novel because it's comforting, self-absorption, right now. and it's more than that, i know, i've never known it more certainly than i do now, the creation, the impulse and the act, essential, vital, blood important.

first there is love then there is light, you told me. those birds were on the shore beautiful chaos, pelicans. that video you made of los angeles. the hill where you broke your arm. magic in a bedroom, on a pier, playground up ocean park in the dark. scorched hills, a large rock, creaky windmill, small green plant dots covering the surface of a shallow waterfall pool, your hand drawing a line through.

i was saying the other day, how each day feels like a lifetime. each day is its own life. have a safe flight. each day its own life. first there is love then there is light.

then we can all rest, go to sleep, sweet.