dim
what's the difference between writing something good and writing something true? what lies in the space between, like the moments between sleep and awake?the moon shines so brightly outside my window, i can see it through the translucent shade, the one that came preinstalled in our apartment. this one in the master bedroom does not have a working pulley, so it stays down at all times. often i escape to the room in the middle of the day for the dampening of the sunlight, making it feel comfortable and cool like the underside of a rock in the desert.
my girlfriend is in the bathroom, swishing mouthwash. earlier i did the same and i came back to her sitting up in bed, arms up in the air for a hug, before she nestled her face in the right spot on my chest. if i could tuck her in between the split in the middle of my ribcage, i would.
once, a long time ago now, i woke up in the early morning, my heart fluttering. i felt, in utmost clarity, as if my limbs could fly off into space, should i move too suddenly. there was nothing anchoring me to earth. then, too, the shade of my room blocked out the light.