April 18 : Tomorrows

Sleeping, eating, watching, learning.
Falling, laughing, waiting, hurting.
Sometimes
wanting
(things
like flying to the end
of where the earth meets the stars
or your eyes meet mine
and the stars all collapse
and letting go
you know
or strawberries and things)
sometimes wishing
(that today was longer
or tomorrow shorter,
little things
like matters of life and death
or big things
like milkshakes and smiles).

And today
this moment
is only mine
and that lends a certain freedom
to the cages in which I live
alone.
And today
this moment
is now alone
(this here)
and jumping into the sea
holding hands with you
is always the best thing to do.

It's a tough business
responsibility
(entailing trust and reliability
and patience and wisdom and love
and well, who the hell
knows what that is)
so we will think about that someday
when we grow up and
stuff.
But for today
let us cycle to the end of the world
(or the street)
let us read with hot chocolate in our hands.
Let us cuddle in warm blankets
(sing to me, please)
under the stars in a distant land.

And maybe I don't want to remember
the things that must be remembered.

We'll yawn in the afternoons
and yell at strangers on the street
we'll be silent when it's dark
and be lonely alone.
And because I'll have to trust you
(and be patient and wise)
because dependence is for those
who know themselves enough
to be faithful. That's why I'll
love you (like I love the moon,
from afar) but leave you
when the stars are out and
I'm tired of today.
Tomorrows,
I've learnt,
are better walked into alone.
Saner calmer bigger truer.