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i dreamt i moved into a apartment with an old brick wall and its decaying face the old light hanging from a thread swings on the open breeze from the window time seems to slow down to a crawl so i can see each and every flaw so i can feel each and every thing she wanted me to feel so i can know each and everything she saw and so i see the the moment captured in ink on her sketch pad a drawing of the wind in the trees a image of the smell of the fresh cut grass the thoughts of the passer-by who looked with such stark wonder at this open display of what we have all taken for granted we could never achieve the old brick wall leaned into the wind and held for one more day kept safe the world she held so dear safe for one more stormy night the old brick wall with its spray painted messages like how joe loves daisy and how we should make love not war the old brick wall holds back the world from coming into her quiet soul into the paper flowers and lace curtains of her life the old brick wall was once the west most piece of the boxers rebellion he was sad all his life torn from his violent profession and forced to retire and his fists lay idle with objections written on them like scars but after years he came to terms with the reasons great and small with the rationalizations made up and real and found peace he found his fists could be hands and hands can pet a cat hands can paint a masterpiece write a love poem hands can touch another person without hurting them and he suddenly he didn't want to hurt anyone ever again because he loved having hands and all the beautiful things they could do he would never have fists again and that change in him was so profound that it became magical and part of the old brick wall so it will endure past its years to protect her little scavenged world her delicate life her frail thoughts because beauty isn't always what the world thinks it is a boxer can tell you that
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