public display of affection

    There's always going to be someone at the window,
    looking in on your life as you live it, taking pictures
    or maybe just notes to bring back to the office and work
    into a screenplay, that will become a Sundance hit
    that some big-time studio will pick up and make a blockbuster.
    In which case you'd better look your best always, choose a
    soundtrack for the precise and quiet moment when you sweep
    your loving wife into the bedroom and shut the door
    with a knowing and affirmative click. Or the exact palette
    of colours for the sky, the leaves, the light falling on your
    breakfast table, when you hand her an apple, one of dozens
    from the same tree, but rendered holy by this simple, single
    act. There could be no one watching at all, not God, not even
    a mouse, but why not be sure? Why not check the gates
    are fastened and secure, the curtains drawn and the lights
    dimmed beyond recognition before you kiss her in a fashion
    no one else has thought of before, in a wholly original manner
    poets would kill to witness and record, with a passion
    neither of you knew or could ever imagine?

20 January 2003   18:13 hours
fall theology { } everything's relative