observations through an opaque glass
i've dreamed of one.
this one was perfect.
this one was nice.
it slipped through my fingers
or i didn't grasp hard enough.
it wasn't the one.
it wasn't.
i've had one.
this one was better.
it was close.
it was real.
this one was for me.
it wanted to be the one.
they fall.
they all fall.
when they fall,
when they roll away,
they sink into myself
and gain weight.
it's heavy.
it hurts.
i'm empty-handed
yet there's one within reach.
i stretch my arm out,
yet draw it back.
hesitating .
thinking.
it could hurt.
or it could be it:
it could be the one.
hesitating.
it creeps towards me
i try to think what it feels.
i try to feel what it thinks.
it wants to be the one.
it wants.
it feels.
i watch it as it comes .
i could hurt it.
it could hurt me.
it comes creeping.
it comes.
slowly .
it isn't clear.
i can't see definite lines.
i can't hear.
what does it say?
it is the one.
it is.
the one.
it is not the one.
is not.
i Stop.
i Think.
i Pray.
i Continue.
10 mar 1986
