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soft voices

Unsure what to write, I retreat to soft songs and calm voices. I’m meeting people. I’m seeing family. I’m saying goodbye. I’m chasing love and finding sex and losing youth.

From birth to death, life is a tragedy. But there are intermissions:

Seeing her for the first time. And steam rising from my tea. And the taste of earl grey with milk and sugar that brings me back to 2010 with a version of love.

Romance. Epic heroes.

There is no first love, just the thing called love, playing out in different ways, on different people who are nonetheless connected by a thin glowing string, as strong as a spider’s strand. As weak as a spider’s strand.

There’s repetition. Recreating the same morning. Taxes every year. Getting to know each other. New Slang naked on her bed in the summer. The most interesting moments are totally new. The best moments are familiar but exceptional in some way.

Old age is becoming familiar with things and accepting it.