364

Andrew Gavinet

LA native, i like football and futbol, great films, great cinematography in films. A good conversation, and a nice glass of huckleberry soda

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Just searching on the keyboard, hoping something will stick.

Though My Eyes May Fail Me

April 8, 2015

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I see her

 

It’s a photo shoot

 

I’m wearing my dapper black with a small gold bowtie as I look downward lamenting

 

Once we are done I change into my urban clothes and walk alone

 

I wait for the night to come to start looking up as I walk

 

Caressing the winding roads and side alleys

 

The boulevard bleeds out into the avenue

 

The avenue sweeps into the street

 

Blues, Greens, and Pinks gently glide across my face like pieces of soft linen

 

The light is comforting and reassuring

 

I am enveloped by the darkness but the neon light guides me towards civilization

 

Slowly I walk back

 

Keeping the beat of the city like a beating heart in my step

 

I get into the swing of things lively, robust

 

I kick off the concrete and float above the crowd

 

People stare and aw but I simply keep the beat going in my head as I smile and wave

 

The ideas rupture from my head like a fury in a furnace

 

Each stare I receive new character

 

Each complement a sentence

 

By the end of the boulevard I struggle to cool down as my head over heats

 

The bar off of sunset helps so I scribble down a few notes on my napkin

 

I keep walking and gliding as the notes keep piling and piling.

 

Then I stop

 

A green light peers out the last window on the right

 

I’ve always had a soft spot for Green

 

I peer inside

 

The light evades me

 

I see her

 

She is lovely in gold and black lining

 

The champagne radiating off her lips

 

I stroll inside but am informed by the waiter gliding is not allowed

 

I peered right, past the Japanese garden to see her table

 

He is laughing with her, probably at his own joke

 

The red he radiates suggest he is the kind of guy to laugh at his own jokes

 

The manger comes over to tell me to come down but there is no struggle

 

My high is mellowed and my head is cooled

 

My feet rejoin the earth with a light thump

 

The green light latches onto my back but seeps away in a fog the farther away I get

 

In the end I am back where I started

 

 

I am enveloped by the darkness but the neon light calls me towards civilization

 

I turn away

 

I walk slowly back through the hills towards the valley of dust

 

Looking back the lights eek out one last hellish call

 

I cannot respond, I am a man of God, a man of reason

 

They say you cannot be hurt if you have god in your heart

 

Still, I don’t glide as high as I one did

 

Maybe it’s the cross around my neck

 

Maybe it’s her shoulder that I am missing.

 

 

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  • April 8, 2015 - 3:12pm (Now Viewing)

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