walking the streets, this time she's not alone. the city's crammed with noise that rushes by in a flurry of exhaust fumes and noise that doesn't move, calling out from tiendas and bouncing back and forth across pupusa-filled planchas. but it's the colors that she feels the most. and the heat. so bold and bright, the colors almost beg to be noticed. and she wonders, is it only possible to see all this once? to see it like the first time, burning with newness and intensity so that edges are sharper and eyes are wider, soaking in a periphery that's greater than the average iris will allow. i know photoreceptors adapt to light and dark. maybe they adapt to familiar too. it's never black and white though because the moments of seeing still catch me off guard with their starkness. it comes in a rapid burst and just as quickly leaves me in amazement.
in wonder.
in sadness sometimes.
and mostly with a desire to prep my eyes, to wake them up in the morning, to remind them that they just never know the hour.
oh so true lady. beautifully put. 'leaves me in...sadness', these words are so honest. yes, sadness. perhaps we see for the first time only once. and then we settle, become familiar. and yet the familiar is always changing is it not? and so, how lovely and strange these bursts. bursts of newness in the familiar. these reminders. perhaps reminders of what -was- once, and what -is- in the present moment. all in one.
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