Part 3: Curiosity
This morning my sister and I got to talking about occasionally having "black hearts and black tongues," which basically require a person to do some cleansing ritual or meditation to "detoxify" from all the bad energies and thoughts. Having "black hearts and tongues" suddenly reminded me of the poetry of Sandra Cisneros, and next thing I know I was re-reading her poems from the Loose Woman which I took out from my shelf to read for the first time again in over a year.
My copy of Loose Woman is old and some poems have many multi-colored underlines, marked at various points and phases in my life. Suddenly, I found some lines that have no mark yet, but have perfectly captured what I have been basically feeling since the weekend:
"I like the possibility of anything,
the little fear I feel
when you enter a room.
I haven't a clue of the who of you."
"And what if you do like me?
And what if you do?
I can't think."
"Listen - cars roar by. All night.
I'm waiting for the one that stops.
All my life. Listen -
(From "Waiting for a Lover," by Sandra Cisneros)
So, the curiosity. The not having a clue. The what-if. As I wait for the car that stops. All my life. And yet through and through there is that tiny fear.
In any case, I can now only keep moving on with my life and not hold my breath for something I am not even sure about, right :3 I was just wondering. I was just, uhm, curious.