alex tells me : i first heard this at a funeral of a piano player whose leukemia had taken away one of his arms and then his life. someone there played one of his songs, that he wrote for one arm.
"farewell to you and the youth i have spent with you. it was but yesterday we met in a dream. you have sung to me in my aloneness, and i of your longings have built a tower in the sky. but now our sleep has fled and our dream is over, and it is no longer dawn. the noontide is upon us and our half waking has turned to fuller day, and we must part. if in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, we shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song. and if our hands should meet in another dream we shall build another tower in the sky."
in a side note: i want to get married to a boy who wears cashmere sweaters and plays music in his head and hums softly through his lips. and he is pretty. life is pretty even when it is tragic b/c beauty grows out of tragedy. and someone told me tragedy is the best soil. and i pretend to hold hands. and type with five fingers on two hands. two pills of anti-knocking up hormones make me motherly and airy and honest. or at least i pretend they do.
i don't know how i feel about foghorn snoring.