You lie next to me,
and yet we are disconnected.

There is a growing cold isthmus between us;
(no more spooning)
Where has the fire gone?
Where has the uninhibited promiscuous youth with two backs gone?
Where has the laughter gone?

Another island is growing between us...

Our once carefree youthfulness is
s l i p p i n g
a w a y .. . . . . . .

We have gained immeasurably
but,
we have almost lost our precious twilight.
Is this the cost of
'growing up'?
- Youthfulness must be very expensive

There is something very uncomfortable
about being comfortable.

Why do the complexities of
time and responsibility
steal so much?

Our predictable spontaneity
is making us irresponsibly responsible

No more midnight summer rollerblading
at our local supermarket carpark.

Are we too afraid to loose our
balance?
to risk falling?

The beautiful venerability of unpredictable fear of
falling into each other; the unknown, and searching for it;
me within you,
and
you within me

Are we no longer scared?
(we should be)
I remember how the
thrill
of our
imbalance
is what we were seeking!



Billy Kavellaris