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the world has a secret to tell me

I saw things. I held onto a tree and it became a boy I loved. I danced and I imagined him dancing with me. Of all the times I would have been alone, I started imagining someone else there. Not that I didn’t love my solitude, but how maybe it didn’t need to be unending. There could be pauses and lapses in its foray. I wanted someone there. That was the change. And when a want presents itself in this purely natural way, as if it were a memory cracking open from the future, I knew it was almost there. I didn’t have to will these images. I just went on living and my living introduced these stutters, these reality shifts. These moment memories would open and I would step inside.

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