this is going to be our first formal meeting.
usually, we just glimpse one another in passing,
and choose not to stop and speak.
i feel like he will be a worthy conversationalist...
he just seems like he has something to say...
i figure i'll leave enlightened.
so i have decided to arrange a date.
i approached him.
and he conceded.
we are to meet at 11pm, i've invited him for
a cup of tea at my kitchen table. i know, the hour
does seem a bit odd for strange company...
but i do feel a sense of comfort and familiarity
with him. anyway, 11 o'clock is around the time
when i am closest to aligning my many mes...
right on the brink of late night. i want to
speak with him openly and honestly...to sincerely
mean the words i choose to say. 11 is good.
i'm not going to dress up for this. just gonna keep
on these house clothes with my head scarf. what i
wear won't make the least bit of difference.
this isn't surface talk...i could care less
about where he is from and how he became who
he is (...well, i only care slightly, this is
this is one conversation that cannot be
rooted in vanity...i pray that i am able to speak
clearly about my feelings. i am certain that he will.
well...i assume that he will.
he strikes me as one that will say what he means
and mean what he says. i can appreciate that.
so now i am waiting anxiously.
sitting on the side of the bed looking at my toes.
the clock reads 10:53
my stomach needs to be fed...
...i'd much rather lie here in bed...
all my nerves "feel" dead...
hella fears i expect to shed...
reopening wounds i've already bled...
okay, now i'm starting to dread...
what lies immediately ahead...
its 10:59...and its about that time...
for a cup of tea