seventh swan

its early and late. i'm in that odd state, a mix of shock and disillusion. like i've just knealt down on a battlefield and watched friends get cut down in a forest and not done anything to help them. i'm sitting in my den, quiet except for the old folk sounds of sufjan, but i'm not here at all. mouth frozen shut, eyes lidded, staring at one thing or another. blank, infused with the world, with people, with the contrast of reality with my comfortable dreams.

i dreamed a girl. we rode in a car at night and walked through backalley doors. once i was lying on a warehouse couch with her, my head in her lap. she looked down at me, her dark hair falling around her face. and we smiled. with a grin, she bent down and we kissed, softly. she thought something was strange, but i didn't. we kissed again. everything was beautiful.

i couldn't if i tried describe her for certain, just that she was perfect. middle length dark hair, cute face, small frame. possibly the opposite of a miss usa contestant... heh. not in the least bit mainstream but not scene or goth or any of that. unidentifiable as anything but herself. not the girl who would, at first glance, spring forth from a lineup of friends - maybe to me - but irresistable when she smiles...

best defined in my memory as a mix of the girl i saw at church last week and miss parks... odd as i've never really known either of them. more imagination than anything i suppose. there's one thing about life, though... there's almost always a someday.




{in case you were wondering, chicago sprung from the transfiguration ;)}