the fog

Every light shining in the fog is a missed opportunity to see you. Bring you into the light even in passing. To see your face up close without your permission for once. Where I can happenstance upon you and enjoy the radiance not of you but of what you represent to me.

update

1.16.9

I never feel scared until something happens so suddenly that it violently jerks me back into the urbanscape that I've put myself into without its due precautions. Like tonite. I was only walking home through NW. Between the shiny bright new pearl and the safe neighborly 23rd area where I live is a small industrial area near the 405. As I passed the old meier and frank building a man ran straight for me. He looked bewildered. My immediate instinct was to get out of his way. I kept watching him as he ran straight past me and after I realized he was just running to catch the bus, I calmed down. But still kept turning around to look at him.

1.12.9

i've been neglecting my lover
I've been cruel, distant
unthankful
i've been unfaithful
like I haven't moved on
i've been telling my lover about my love
i've been revealing that my affection is shared
and how does my lover react?
steady, calm, accepting, no matter what.
this lover, my city, has been good to me.
i'm doing a job that i love, with people i love,
i have friends here that have been some of the best in my life
the experience here is unseen as of yet in my short life
and i know that in 20 years i'll look back on this time with my lover, Portland
as amazing, full of life, the best years.
men come and go, just as my favorite cocktail keeps changing
i'll always love my hats, fried food, and New Orleans
but I've embraced the rain, clean air and yes, even hipsters.
the local color like chocolates on my birthday.
its time i stopped fooling around and allow myself to fall in love with this place
embrace it as my new home that has been so good to me in the past
it has unrelentingly given and given and given to me without a single thought of reciprocity.
this is of course better than any of my relationships with the opposite sex.
the truth is i spend more time alone with my city than i'm willing to spend with any male or friend, for that matter.
so i am exclusive. with the whole damn place.
its cafes, parks, streets, sidewalks, bars, restaurants and weirdness.
the familiarity isn't scaring me like as if it belonged to a man,
i thrive in confidence when a japanese tourist asks me where Tiffany's is, and I can tell her with absolute knowledge.
Yes, I am going to fall in love with my lover.
baby steps. one step at a time. next step, maybe a man.

1.11.9

Is it always the pathetic ones that fall in love?
The ones who need someone, something.
Like if Bob Dylan and Sylvia Plath had been in love.
A union of common need.
Is my feeling of invasion a sign of being unsound?
Or too sound?