Monday, October 3, 2011, 1:45 AM
Fumble, cover, light.
I—very intentionally—have the sweet falsetto of Justin Vernon whispering in my ears.
It’s a sub-arctic night in comparison to the dog days of summer. I wanted to appreciate this before the rain comes tomorrow.
Breathe out.
I stand, shivering, and watch the last remnants of Sunday night souls withering away in the village.
I infuse the embers of my cigarette with my breath, just to watch them glow in contrast to the night-light.
The trash bags perched in front of me are partnered with substances too-often abused by my peers. I can feel their contents reach out and seep into my skin. More and more I notice that the withering souls are partnered up—not so withering. All-too-readily, I remember the warmth of the hand that lead me through last winter; how it felt to be in puppy-love in the lingeringly humid September air. Shorts and cautious caressing. But, it’s turned frigid once again, and this time without my life buffer. “It’s just like the love, the one that’s never been enough”
Look—it’s almost out. This went by too fast, but I can’t have another.
I’m reminded why I didn’t take a walk with this thing. I wanted to stand here. Stand and watch and shiver to not participate in this city—not right now, at least.
Drop, stomp, collect.
Tags: laura marling, night by night
