![[ white world ] by Riccardo Romano](https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5213/5403751583_9ef429f362.jpg "[ white world ] by Riccardo Romano")
[ white world ] by Riccardo Romano
Missed Connections in Toronto
Dearest Ghost Boy
We are all children under water,
laughing,
upside down,
sharp teeth glistening,
mistaken for pearls.
When I danced with the ocean’s tide she asked me if I was sad
and when I said no she laughed and drowned another sailor.
It’s not that I pin for what was never there
but rather for what could have been
if only we had stretched our arms out wide enough-
-not letting our bodies get in the way.
The lake is frozen this year. I am not sure you know.
I’ve thought about all the ways one can break the ice
and unravel the little threads that bind us
to all the places we have never been
and all the people we could never be.
I once wanted to be a constellation,
bright and untouchable.
A mythic web that tasted like oranges bitten by the cold.
But I was just an underwater thing haunted by the ghosts that lived between the floorboards
and you were just an idea chasing symbols to the lakeside longing for salvation.
x
Her Two Cents
On this day, a quote from Dickens feels oddly appropriate, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair…”
