On any other day we’d be a river
White on the edges, and a shimmer
With gurgles and frolics
We’d run out of topics
And flow anyways, undeterred

On any other day we’d be together
Dancing and slightly less sober
Discuss the semantics
Ridicule their antics
Though now I suppose we can’t bother

On any other day it’d be just swell-er
Time would extend like a rubber
For now, it just ticks
Like mad, should be fixed ..
..But im sure it'll stand in the weather :)

06.

A 1am breeze whips up, softly refreshing, as the wine softly droops my eyelids. An hour away from last year. An inch away from comfort. Perhaps no coherent words were spoken. Perhaps too many things needed to be said. Perhaps nothing at all needed to manifest in words.

Words, you see, are instant. They lift and drop (like a question on your plate) like the glass that you drink from, quench from. Soon enough you’ll need more. And more. I understood that words collapse around you like an unsuccessful dress, unpinned. Temporary at best. Exposing you, an object of observation. An object of objection.

So I closed my eyes and savoured the breeze instead, an inch away. Quick comfort is not my goal this year. I understood that things are not always solvable in an instant (much to my surprise). Some things, like wine, need a bit of patience. So here’s a toast to 2006... and the test of time.