Pillow Talk


All that I’ve learned, every bit of information I’ve come to know as factual,

Every lecture and with every hour, each enlightenment and revelation,

Footnotes and education, pillow talks and life lessons,

Twenty years existing and wisdom searching has taught me few things worth knowing once I’ve received them.

This is a gift.

Chase folly you precious apprentice.

Need it like she were the last woman on earth; with a ravenous passion that would make the most skeptical of men pay mind to your obsession.

Life teaches knowing, and wise men die alone.

There’s been a crescendo building in my heart.

With every symphonic section sidling in quiet as a mouse, birthing and breathing piece by piece, chair by chair, string by sting, horn by horn.

The maestro shivers with a static arpeggio thumping inside him.

Holding and growing.

Loving and depleting.

Watching and watching and waiting.

Fortissimo…. Staccato.

Echoing with such a punishing, ironic understanding that it takes learning to teach us that ignorance is a gift.

This is my god-given, goddamned wisdom twenty years in.

This is my gift to you.

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