I have never felt like this. It washes over me when I'm not looking, this rush that travels through my veins, mixes with my blood - rockets through my soul, and leaves gooseflesh on its tail.
There is this connection between you and I. A measure of heat when my palm slides into yours, an electricity that crackles between our parted lips. It has always been there. I have always known you, somewhere in my bones. In my dreams. In my molecules. I was meant to love you.
Last night we hid in the shadows of the moon, clinging together in the cooling ripples. Your eyes reflected the stars pinned to the night sky and water lapped at our shoulders. In the quiet, we let our skin speak and our mouths rest. With dripping bodies, we climbed under the sheets and ate popsicles like teenagers. My heart was bursting with you, and I swore I could never be this happy.
This afternoon we travelled the humid aisles of our favorite bookstore. Our eyes tripped from the titles of a thousand voices to each other, and back again in an unspoken dance. In the heat, I twisted my hair up with one hand. You stole behind me and whispered a kiss on my strawberry birthmark. I wondered how I could possibly love you more than right that second.
This evening it rained pebbles on my bedroom window. When I peered over the sill, I saw you grinning up at me. And I fell in love with you all over again. You stepped off the pages of a fairy tale and into my arms. And then you set my paper heart aflame.
Grow old with me, my sweetest love.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
We Got Heart
It might have been a hundred degrees out there. The team may have gotten slaughtered EVERY game. You should have reached your limit by mid-afternoon.
But you didn't. You played hard, rose to the challenge, bonded with the team and made me proud. We may not have a trophy - but we got heart. Good game kiddo.Friday, July 15, 2011
Down the Rabbit Hole
I woke up each morning to your beautiful artwork stretched out before me. Caught up in the remnants of sleepy, wistful dreams - before I knew the morning - I loved you. Entwined in the embrace of an old Hollywood love affair, we hurriedly planned our adventures.Long ribbons of highway spun out before us, long and winding roads where we got lost together. Lost in each other. We fell blissfully down the rabbit hole. I do not know where the time went, ticking away warm, sunny days. Mapping long afternoons in abandoned movie theatres. In the quiet evening darkness, minutes stole by to the sound of our heart beating. For you know that we share only one.
Over pancakes, eggs and steaming coffee - we lived. In Wonderland. Where you and I were the only sense in the nonsense, and the rabbit lost his pocket watch.
Oh my ears and whiskers, if I had only knew the bliss I would find in you, I'd have drunk from the bottle ages ago.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Words Unspoken
Yesterday you carved our initials in the tree. You chose the roots, instead of the trunk, where the tree is strongest. I watched in silence, through a mist of love and tears for its beauty. I didn't tell you then, but you were carving our initials into my tender heart, into the sinews where it beats hardest.
In the dark we laid, in a tangle of arms and legs, and whispered. My eyes spoke to yours, lit up by the reflections of the world around us. My breath met yours in the space between our lips, filled with the promises we do not need to speak.
This morning you wrapped yourself around me. Words travelled along your sweet lips to my ear, finding its way across my skin and into my soul. Stay with me always. My skin rose to meet your touch, the sound of your palm on my hip whispering to you...for always, my sweetest love.
In the dark we laid, in a tangle of arms and legs, and whispered. My eyes spoke to yours, lit up by the reflections of the world around us. My breath met yours in the space between our lips, filled with the promises we do not need to speak.
This morning you wrapped yourself around me. Words travelled along your sweet lips to my ear, finding its way across my skin and into my soul. Stay with me always. My skin rose to meet your touch, the sound of your palm on my hip whispering to you...for always, my sweetest love.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Tourniquet
I opened my eyes to the blinding flash of the world exploding around me. All that I have come to know is burning down, pieces of yesterdays, todays and tomorrows lie piecemeal. The rubble is alight, flames dancing over my hopes and eating my dreams from the inside.
I see nothing but the ashes, coating the guilded lilies and tarnishing my soul. Silence around me, smoke in the air, in my lungs. Acrid. I stand in the middle of the world and watch it burn. See the destruction, witness the violence - see it all crumble under my precarious touch. King Midas has nothing on me.
Leave me here, sitting crosslegged in the ash. Clutching my exploded heart and praying for daylight. You take with you all the colours of the world. My soul.
I am broken.
I see nothing but the ashes, coating the guilded lilies and tarnishing my soul. Silence around me, smoke in the air, in my lungs. Acrid. I stand in the middle of the world and watch it burn. See the destruction, witness the violence - see it all crumble under my precarious touch. King Midas has nothing on me.
Leave me here, sitting crosslegged in the ash. Clutching my exploded heart and praying for daylight. You take with you all the colours of the world. My soul.
I am broken.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Snaps
Today I left you behind, in a little room with curtains. I didn't want to, but they insisted I leave. You looked alone and tense, but I walked away with a smile of reassurance, so you couldn't see my sadness. You didn't know, couldn't know - that I left a piece of me pressed against your lips.
With time to kill and nowhere to go, I sat on a grassy hill overlooking the chaos. Coffee in hand, I watched the people of my own neighbourhood wander. Some talking - to others, or themselves - some walking. Some lingering on street corners and bus stops, others driving off to lives I cannot see. I remember this sight through my windowpane in my younger years. When I used to call this MY stomping grounds.
It was a time when I was alone and broken. Embarrassed, not only to be where I was, but WHO I was. Nothing came or left from that tiny room, except my hope. I remember late nights, awake while the old console television flickered plots older than my rotting dreams. Despair, drier than yellowed wallpaper stained my soul, I was sure I could never beat the demon.
I watched this world around me, quietly. My silence screamed to days gone by and I struggled to find where the light is. Sunlight crept over the hill, climbed the shadows and rested on one knee. And then, I came back for you.
Relief flooded your face as I rounded the double doors and into your sanctuary. I fingered the snaps on the shoulder of your gown, undoing, redoing. The metal was warm from your skin beneath, leaving impressions of a never ending circle on the pad of my thumb. Although I was relieved to find you intact, the real reward came with the realization that with you, I am whole. I am no longer that other person I watched in my memories.
Goodbye, sweet girl.
With time to kill and nowhere to go, I sat on a grassy hill overlooking the chaos. Coffee in hand, I watched the people of my own neighbourhood wander. Some talking - to others, or themselves - some walking. Some lingering on street corners and bus stops, others driving off to lives I cannot see. I remember this sight through my windowpane in my younger years. When I used to call this MY stomping grounds.
It was a time when I was alone and broken. Embarrassed, not only to be where I was, but WHO I was. Nothing came or left from that tiny room, except my hope. I remember late nights, awake while the old console television flickered plots older than my rotting dreams. Despair, drier than yellowed wallpaper stained my soul, I was sure I could never beat the demon.
I watched this world around me, quietly. My silence screamed to days gone by and I struggled to find where the light is. Sunlight crept over the hill, climbed the shadows and rested on one knee. And then, I came back for you.
Relief flooded your face as I rounded the double doors and into your sanctuary. I fingered the snaps on the shoulder of your gown, undoing, redoing. The metal was warm from your skin beneath, leaving impressions of a never ending circle on the pad of my thumb. Although I was relieved to find you intact, the real reward came with the realization that with you, I am whole. I am no longer that other person I watched in my memories.
Goodbye, sweet girl.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Palpitate
Something has me thinking. About something else. About me. About that. About life. About you.
In an offhand conversation while the world whipped by, I opened my mouth and some words fell out. "Reflection is key to monitoring how you move in the world in general." I don't know what they meant. Do you?
And so I taste those words, roll them around in my mouth and try to get a feeling for how my tongue fits around them. Still, they are foreign. How do I wax philosophical about reflecting on life and ignore the fingernail scratching my gullet? Something feels different. Reflect on it.
Somewhere, between the humid sky and the heatwaves rising from the pavement, is the truth. But I don't reflect on it, now do I? I do not consider it, I do not question...why? I do not really want to know.
If life is just a series of rooms, and the people you find in them, how do we reflect on the purpose of the company? Are you teaching me something? I like the analogy, it seems to inspire reflection on the relationships you build around you, either short or long, romantic or otherwise. Am I learning?
If we are just in another room, for a little time, do I hear you leave? Does the door creak open and say goodbye or is it just the absence I feel in my heart? Can I come too?
Where are you going?
Anxiety, after all, is only the reflections you ignore. Isn't it?
In an offhand conversation while the world whipped by, I opened my mouth and some words fell out. "Reflection is key to monitoring how you move in the world in general." I don't know what they meant. Do you?
And so I taste those words, roll them around in my mouth and try to get a feeling for how my tongue fits around them. Still, they are foreign. How do I wax philosophical about reflecting on life and ignore the fingernail scratching my gullet? Something feels different. Reflect on it.
Somewhere, between the humid sky and the heatwaves rising from the pavement, is the truth. But I don't reflect on it, now do I? I do not consider it, I do not question...why? I do not really want to know.
If life is just a series of rooms, and the people you find in them, how do we reflect on the purpose of the company? Are you teaching me something? I like the analogy, it seems to inspire reflection on the relationships you build around you, either short or long, romantic or otherwise. Am I learning?
If we are just in another room, for a little time, do I hear you leave? Does the door creak open and say goodbye or is it just the absence I feel in my heart? Can I come too?
Where are you going?
Anxiety, after all, is only the reflections you ignore. Isn't it?
Friday, July 1, 2011
Catching Flame
Today, I sat with a group of people I barely knew. We laughed, watched little feet splash in backyard pools, ate from the outdoor grill, and shared a piece of our lives. Our voices rose above the peals of laughter on the silky lawn, trading stories of yesterdays in the waning sun and dodging rogue water missiles.
Later, we sat huddled in damp towels on camping chairs, and watched millions of tiny sparks in the sky collect into explosions of brilliance. We laughed, pointed, clapped and collectively sighed over its beauty.
But for one moment, I was all alone. There was no sound but the crackling of tiny sparklers across the lawn, no image but the glowing embers on children's faces lit up by the simpleness of life. Looking across the twilight, all I could see was ten tiny little hands grasping sparklers, quietly appreciating the beauty of those flying fires. They came together like a wildfire: the quiet, the image, the feeling, and caught flame to my soul.
There it was, happiness.
Later, we sat huddled in damp towels on camping chairs, and watched millions of tiny sparks in the sky collect into explosions of brilliance. We laughed, pointed, clapped and collectively sighed over its beauty.
But for one moment, I was all alone. There was no sound but the crackling of tiny sparklers across the lawn, no image but the glowing embers on children's faces lit up by the simpleness of life. Looking across the twilight, all I could see was ten tiny little hands grasping sparklers, quietly appreciating the beauty of those flying fires. They came together like a wildfire: the quiet, the image, the feeling, and caught flame to my soul.
There it was, happiness.
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