Walking as if I am waiting for someone, eyes distracted by perpetual searching- for what? For whom? Aspettare means "to wait," derived from the same root as expectation. To wait is to be in expectation, accentuated by this darkly-veiled sky, holding its secrets deep within itself, holding its breath and churning slowly. Pressure is dripping out of the center like liquid longing. It is whipped into wisps of gray cotton candy, and it pushes dully against the limits like a body against a glass wall, naked and barefoot. Hands press and forehead rests against the cool surface, and eyes fall closed, heavy with the fatigue of energy unspent and potential uncompleted. An electric spark so recently crackled across the cells of her skin, so ready to light fire within the vicinity of corresponding eyes. How can companionship be so close- an inch beneath every step- and so far beyond that cloudy barrier?
It releases into rain; I release into a run. When we return, we will have open eyes and I will embrace the recognition of my invisible shadow; I will like the audience of my own consciousness and go about my artwork as if her eyes were enough to see it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SuDipDU0jCQ
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