2002-06-14 - 5:27 a.m.
Autumn brings about sentiments from days long past. Each word spoken has its own sibilance that cuts as crisp as jet trails dividing a pale blue sky, extending themselves onward to a place far better than here. Memories strike their blows, and I rebound with a nostalgic jubilee. It’s such a strange thing to watch a thousand private movies of how it last felt when I touched her, and how her skin tasted, and the way she said my name...all at once but not at all. Trees sigh with a comfort only autumn can bring. Everything is right. Everything is good. I realize in this vast ocean of time I’m racing away from the last whenever, yet tethered closely to the next someday. This cool crisp air feels light on my skin, and for a moment I feel free.
