Lines

Lines here, lines there. Lines are everywhere. They can get you from one place to the other. They can get you laid (or so I hear). And they can get you in a lot of trouble. Like that line Gibmonster threw out at the Bull and the Bear back in 1986. But almost every important thing in this world is a line of one sort of another. The bottom line, the end of the line, the line you stand in at the drug store. Sometimes lines come, and then go. Sometimes lines fall on deaf ears. I have seen the absence of lines and a room full of lines and empty space that was once a line. I have been overjoyed at the crossing of a line. Like the South Carolina line on Christmas Eve or the last mark in a domino game. I have had my heart broken by lines, and I have seen a heart I cherish leap for joy at a line only to fall tearfully back to earth as the line disapates. Groups of lines become angles. There is an angle to almost everything. Growing up, making music, going to church on Easter Sunday, playing parlor games at the beach with your family. But I have never seen a line that meant as much as the line that says "She loves me, even though I am less than unworthy of such a love." A faint red line that says please hang around and wait for me. A line that says that crazy blood river that started God knows where and ended up in your veins will flow long after you're gone. A line that says sometimes Christmas comes in April.