stutterer/1

I can't say this out loud/I couldn't say this/I wouldn't say this out loud.
I was with my friend, and we were talking, and I wanted to talk about you the whole time (but I didn't want to say it out loud).  I wanted to tell him I couldn't stop thinking about you, but I couldn't say it out loud.
But I don't really know if it's true, if I can't stop thinking about you, because I haven't really tried, and I don't know if I should try because I don't see any reason why.
That's too much.  I won't say that out loud, and I won't even think it any more.
I wanted to say it out loud to see how it sounded when I said it, but I couldn't speak it to anyone, because it's a prayer that I say to myself, and it's holy there, between my mouth and my ear, and I like how it sounds when I say it to myself.  And I want it to live there, like a prayer without an answer, because there's no space for an answer right here, because here is complicated.
I almost started saying it out loud to you, but then I stopped because it was the wrong here, and when I realized that, I wanted to tell you that, that this is not the right here, and the now is not the right now, but it's hard when you are floating outside of time, not stuck in between moments, and you start to see things that seem true but not yet, or things that you want to be true, but not yet, and these moments of being outside of time start to add up to something that becomes like a weight, like a weight pulling the body down to earth in time, and things start to unravel, and the things that are hidden in the knots in the tongue start to untwine themselves, and everything just pours out, but the here and the now are strong, and there are so many people in the way, and every one of them becomes like a barrier between the thing that you want to say and the thing that you are supposed to say, and in that space, you have to say something else, and that something else becomes the thread that you have to follow for awhile.
And that's probably ok, you tell yourself, because if you follow the thread well, eventually everyone will forget that you were just about to say something else entirely.  And so you find yourself living in a space that's in between the things you want and the things you know, and you live in that space because you have to live somewhere, and it's warm enough for now, but not quite right, because it's not even your dream it's someone else's, and the narrator is not you.
If I remember that, then it will unfold on the earth like the tongue of a story that happens in time, and this is that moment in time when there are so many things that I can't say out loud, and birds fly from my tongue because they escape, and if you listen carefully, the words aren't giving anything out to anyone who shouldn't hear it, but you'll know that they have the rhythms of the moon, and you might understand that I'm not sleeping because something in me is busy rehearsing for a scene that has not yet happened. 

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