10.20.24

Love isn't the passing of time...it is time itself. 

Walking thru time or around time or undertime, we are in the process of undoing, undone begun and already ended. Is it time or is it desire that makes me dangerous? It is time or is it desire that makes me unreliable? I'm wanting to possess and be possessed. I made that long journey from here to there only to learn there is no here and no there. I'm wanting to know and be known I made that long journey from childhood to adulthood only to learn they are really just a short distance from one another, co-occuring, co-conspirating. Hand over my heart, I really have no recollection of what I was saying and what for. I gave everything of me to the machine and it still wouldn't dispense love. I gave it more time and it kept giving me a receipt for the future. I pledged, only to be betrayed, and then I learned to love the sensation of betrayal.