s p r i n k l e d s t r e e t s

And would it have been worth it, after all, Would it have been worth while, After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor— And this, and so much more?— (ts eliot)

Monday, June 13, 2005

Life Changes

This morning, at pricisely five am, I was stunned awake by a loud cranking alarm clock, reminding me of my lack of sleep with it's eerie digital red glow. At five-twenty I was walking out the door and saying good-bye. I popped the Radiohead live cd in as I warmed up my car. I had to go. He had to go. We knew it was coming for a few weeks. And the day had arrived.
"Are you sure you don't want a blanket?" I asked him, walking towards my trunk.
"I guess so, if you don't need it."
"No, take it. Please."
"Ok. Thanks." I lifted the stripy blue blanket out of the trunk and handed it to him.
With one last kiss and several anxiously exchanged words, I was backing up the driveway and heading towards the Earls Cove ferry terminal, driving half-maniacally and half-a-sleepily through fifty-six kilometres worth of curvy coastal terrain.

I'll drown my beliefs
To have you be in peace
I'll dress like your niece
To wash your swollen feet

Just don't leave
Don't leave

I'm not living
I'm just killing time
Your tiny hands
Your crazy kitten smile

Just don't leave
Don't leave

And true love waits
In haunted attics
And true love lives
On lollipops and crisps

Just don't leave
Don't leave

Just don't leave
Don't leave

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