the lost man chronicles
book two: the art of love
a stranger trance of reality
Peeking about the pole you made me feel as if we had turned a woman into a girl again. Or at least this is what I imagined, as I sat feeling like an adolescent myself, catching coveted glimpses of you while waiting for the train to move. I was feeling as if my vanity and your humility coalesced to combine heaven and earth into one plane, the very platform upon which we were splitting back into two separate human forms again.
But a moment before we had merged into one cutaneous and spiritual whole hidden away from responsibilities and commitments, and all the others who choose not to live and feel the realm of sensation we were reveling in.
The transitions from circling soliloquies to the charming squeak of swings euphoniously touching us through all the giving trees of the world synchronized our desire with action into the symphony and the dance which under a covert asylum in the middle of the metropolis moved us from virtual strangers into an even stranger trance of reality.
the art of living the list