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Sunday, April 27, 2014

Finding Lucy: In the crowd.

I don't often think about that night. That night when Lucy left me standing outside the purple car, while Lucy was inside.
I stood there in the middle of the desert. Noone to talk to, letching at the prudish moon, all out and big and proud. Lucy, was inside.
I wanted to open the door, get on my knees, and claim Lucy. Or save Lucy, as I dream. But I couldn't. I couldn't help but think, even if it was just out of bitterness, that Lucy didn't deserve it.
About the snake who gives himself so easy into any shape, I wonder about its  reality. I wonder about its power. I wonder in pain. And longing. For my love for it is the same, despite all its grime and deciet.
Lucy was still Lucy, but not the same. Or was it my devotion that had changed? Devotion could be a constant.

About the mud that was upon Lucy, who had gained so much vanity because of what it was upon... She felt happy. But what about Lucy? What had Lucy gained? No, Lucy didn't lose anything. My devotion is a constant.
I wanted to open the door, stand on my feet, and claim that vanity. I knew I could. I could try at least. That happiness would be so much more, the mud can never know, when that happiness would be mine.
But that's the thing. I can't claim Lucy unless Lucy claims me. I will just wait outside the purple car and when Lucy is done, I will drive them home.

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