I can hardly tell what I see anymore. Maybe it's what I want to see. Reality is skewed. Certainty is so hard to come by. I used to meet it on the sidewalk, while walking down the street. I'd tip my hat, smile comfortably, and amble on. Seems the last year has changed that. I don't meet reason and clarity anymore. Too focused on the future. Or maybe not enough. Reason shouldn't be intangible and grey. I just don't know how to begin looking for something I can't remember how I lost.
But what of this form? Somehow, beauty persists through irrationality. I imagine a form. Effeminate, slender, radiant. Daydreaming. She goes nowhere, pleasantly brushes time away, and paints a moment of lax, rejuvenating, serenity.
I want to be caught in this bubble. Alone, distant, separate from questions, answers, and silly temporal restrictions. But I can't. Almost. Not quite. I just watch. The form sways, I reciprocate.
I guess it's gold. Golden. In changing, unsure hues. I impose my vanity and desires upon her. Part dream, part vision, the most I can do is watch and wonder. I'll have to get back to reality eventually. Wether I care or not, time continues it's aggravating pull on me. I'm glad I can just watch every once in a while. Gold is magnificent. I hope I never meet her.
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