05. Collections of Colonies of Bees “Lawns” GIVING [Hometapes]
Moment @ 2:59
I know I love you, but you cannot expect me to remember your name. Every morning they wheel me in here and usually around when the small hand on the clock hits 10 you show up, shortly after the whoosh of the automatic doors. You do this thing where you are already bending your back as you pass the front desk and walk toward me to get my attention, as if I can’t lift my neck to see you at regular height instead of just not wanting to. The muzak up above starts blurring when you start talking. My eyes have trouble staying open even though I got a solid nine hours. A part of me wonders why everything feels white, feels smeared like whipped cream, when I can properly identify the green of the fern in the lobby and the deep gray of the carpeting when I concentrate. Some words jump out at me in jabs (some from you, some from miles away it seems): address, traveling, return, holidays. None of them make any sense. The thing I think I’m failing to mention is that during all of this I am genuinely happy to see you. And I show it - smiles, warm touches, and a peaceful disposition. Millions of goosebumps fly through my muscles, jumping out of me and getting muffled by my cardigan, my trousers, and my moccasins. I can see your goosebumps too despite the fact that I’m periodically looking at the television. Hoping you can see mine, I touch your face. Of course you reciprocate; you’re my son, despite my not knowing it.
Source: SoundCloud / Hometapes