I fell.
More than once.
Harder than I should have.
And instead of learning-
I wrote it down.
Every time.
This is what ten years of paying attention looks like.
Across five movements-glimpse, wonder, want, burn, remain.
Every glance that rearranged a room.
Every woman who left something behind.
Every word I didn't dare to say out loud.
This isn't wisdom.
It's evidence.
Proof of the kind of man
who forgets the lesson
but remembers the feeling-
perfectly, painfully, forever.
-
Some of them know who they are. Some never will.
Related Subjects
Poetry