February 11, 2004

• pulse for pulse

  
  

  When I try not to think about pain I think about love as if there was a difference. I smile and I flirt and I don’t talk about my worries and when I try to write it is all painful and dark, so I write about love. If it is going to be agony, let it at least give me a moment of pleasure. A moment in which I can pretend I am nothing but a body – no heart and no soul. “No attachments” he said. Something other than what I am.

  
  

  The tragedy is, love cannot exist if the heart is not involved. If there is no soul, then how could it last forever? If it is not worth holding on to, then why experience it all at? So to love you must feel and to feel pleasure you must also endure pain.

  
  

  My name is Sheila. I don’t remember if I’ve introduced myself lately. Here are some random things I’ve written or read in the last few days.

  
  

  All day in a daze of your making
  of our making
  love making

  
  

  Then you come to me in the silence of the night
  O dream how sweet
  Too sweet
  Too bitter-sweet

  
  

  My thirsting longing eyes
  Watch the slow door
  That opening
  Letting in
  Let’s out no more

  
  

  All day in a daze and all night in a dream
  Come back to me that I may give
  Pulse for pulse
  Breath for breath
  Speak low, lean low
  Make love to me

  • 8:46 pm
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