i tell you that i care and that i have fears too.
you say it doesn’t comfort you but ask
“like what?” anyways
like running in sand and shadows on the wall.
like losing all of my words… thats a big one.
i wish you would says its okay. that i would always have giberish and our secret language made sitting in trees - eyes fixed on a fading sky.
but your scared too:
“of stuff”
of what stuff?
“crabs. and snakes. and the world wide web.”
why?
“too much information.”
i am laughing. now i’m unsure.
is there more information than there are words?
is there information without words?
“Of course dummy, we don’t need words to see.”
I nod as if you’re right, but I mildly disagree.
We’re sitting on the sofa. Sitting as we always do. I try to forget - as I always do but words pop back into my head:
words about things, about people, and memories, and groundhogs
“why groundhogs?”
Never mind, i say.
I’ll keep my words for now, and tell you that i’m sleepy.
but i dont move and you turn on the tv.
i want to go write a story - but i may accidentally slip and write about you, and how sometimes you remind me of my father - but that would be weird. I know how i mean it - but my words may actually confuse as they cross my head to yours- or even worse a strangers.
instead i sit here - eyes closed.
“what about squirrels?”
huh?
“ain’t you scared of squirrels.”
bats.
oh…. oh.
clean skylines, clean windows, clean crows.
i knit my fingers carefully between yours. but i can’t let it go: i’m restless.
Your scared of the world wide web? it makes me laugh again - so hard I fall of the couch and hit my head. still laughing:
who calls it that - the world wide web - it’s like dr.seuss!
Finally you laugh too - crinkle nosed as always.
may we always have these accidents.
