#a farwell

Ciao a tutti, è stato bello (anche se non sempre).

I neglected writing in July and August. But I was here all along...living Summer. And I guess that's how these things go if you let them. I don't know that I can ever describe the last two months in plain language. Of course there was my studio in the rain, an ivory skyline peeking above the windowsill, and fireworks dripping from the sky. There were metro rides under the sweltering ground, and laughter like bells and clinking glasses. There were lightning bugs down red brick alleyways and sunset walks, shadows tossed against the cobblestone. At night, smoke swirled from the mouths of friends like those billowing clouds of steam that rise from the roads at twilight. Reminding me of a childhood spent whispering secrets to the fog. But there was something more too, lingering in the touch of fingertips and lips. My body transformed for the sun. Green leafy things burgeoned on the horizon. I had to know how they smelled against my skin. I had to know how they tasted. I got down to the pulse of things---felt them in their nascent state, growing. I got to living from the inside. I felt my heart working double time, filled up with a new kind of love...and then I let go. Somewhere between an earthquake and a hurricane, I relinquished my light as would some kind of fallen deity. To watch the sun stuff die, to relent to the Fall, could be my unraveling. I am so sorry, Summer, to see you go. I wanted to hold on to you forever but time does not work that way. I wanted to chase you through seasons and watch you turn into something more but I am breathless, Summer, and I am so sorry to see you go.