The Dandelion
the dandelion
No. Untie the strings. Withdraw your nets. Try to snare me, and all you will catch is sand, which slides swiftly through your fingers.
I am not here to be caught. And I never meant to catch you.
These wings are unclipped, made restless by the sight of horizons not yet crossed, worlds not yet seen.
You are a kind, sweet, thoughtful sandbag. I am an ascending hot air balloon. I don't want your weight. I'm bailing ballast as quickly as I can. The last thing I want is another sandbag.
I don't want to hurt you. But I don't want to keep you, either. Less still do I want to be kept.
I am a fairy tale, a pipe dream. As beautiful and as constant as a bouquet of dandelions on a windy day.
No. Untie the strings. Withdraw your nets. Try to snare me, and all you will catch is sand, which slides swiftly through your fingers.
I am not here to be caught. And I never meant to catch you.
These wings are unclipped, made restless by the sight of horizons not yet crossed, worlds not yet seen.
You are a kind, sweet, thoughtful sandbag. I am an ascending hot air balloon. I don't want your weight. I'm bailing ballast as quickly as I can. The last thing I want is another sandbag.
I don't want to hurt you. But I don't want to keep you, either. Less still do I want to be kept.
I am a fairy tale, a pipe dream. As beautiful and as constant as a bouquet of dandelions on a windy day.
posted by lute_of_jubal at 11:50 PM
2 Comments:
Thanks. :) Heh - most of the "dark" ones were written around that time, on super intense caffeine highs, so it makes sense.
And hey, if you like what I do, spread the word! :)
I'd also recommend checking out some of my photography, if that interests you at all - there's a link for it in the sidebar. :)
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