bloodshed series

it was recently that I met three of my old friends anew. one whose memory stayed for fifteen years without ever being realized in reality until our reunion last week. she didn't particularly look too different except for some wrinkles around her eyes and lips. she was the same bold thin girl sitting on the far left corner of the classroom, this time in the cozy greek restaurant on St. Laurant. many stories to tell now, of how it has occured to her. life. i don't remember how she was too well. i don't remember how i was too well. hah, ay that's the rub. but i promise. read it to the last. this is my resolution. i didn't particularly imagined her this way. in my mind she was happy and playful. the dark allies that life takes you are so particular. only showing themselves to you in time. you never know where you are going to be taken behind the fogs. the poetics of being being poetically foggy. the rain washes the fog off once every raining season. only to evaporate in the summer, freeze in the winter, and dance in the summer. so green is life. seven years struck me like a leach who just found new blood. seven years. she waited seven years. time. space. joke. time. other friend whom I re-meet every time anew. this time since march. this profound looking within from without toasts me. it's like burning in the presence of sun. wanting to run away to that foggy corner i love and hate. well. strong heavy burdened words don't do justice, like these two i just used but heck. and i ran away. i did. i came back with more trust in my intuitions. fears? no. non-existant. trust. a seeing leading a blind. they take turns. like two willow trees. one supporting another when it falls with rain and the other being supposed to support another during its fall but giving it a punch in the nose. i am talking about self. yes. the asshole within. the asshole without. the punch in the nose when support is needed. well illuminated by the sun. the semantics of my poetry changed instantaneously. this very other. so. ok. philosophy of the east, iran and algeria to be exact. eureka in one word. clarity in another word. the quintessential dust. madame bovary. memory and time. memory in time. memory out of time. fog. sun. light. night. oh.
i am quiet. i am calm. i am loving. and i am kind. now. use me or lose me.