To Be Soft

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I thought I knew how to be soft until I saw you last night. Thought I knew what it meant to be light, to be passing by. I wonder always where you’re going, where you’ve been and why it takes me so long to see things clearly.

In memory, I am standing outside of a fruit stand in Vienna. Or maybe it’s just a photograph. All of Europe blends together as one long car ride and kissing near the Seine. One long lunch with white wine and playing cards in bars.

When I wake in the morning the sea is a moody grey-blue and the moon is full. The fog is thick and I cannot see the horizon. On this day one year ago, I made big decisions that I couldn’t sink my teeth into. If we trace it all back, on this day one year ago things split into twos.

We are not allowed to go backward.

What I want to know is how the birds fly in a V. What I want to know is why the water is one day grey-blue and then next day aqua-eye-blue. What I want to know is why the wind swept me into another course entirely. What I am not saying is that I am learning a lot from where I stand. What I am never saying is that I am happy.

I think now and then we have to be taught lessons we might otherwise shy away from. We have to give up things we love. We have to get right by our own side. What I am learning is how to be soft and how to be good.


image: @jordanpaynee

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