Alone
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張貼於:2011年 11月 10日 6:14 am
最近編輯過:2013年 6月 28日 6:05 pm 3875 瀏覽
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It seems as though I can pass along the walls of the hallway of my memory, fingertips just brushing the surface and read without even looking many of the happiest, most joyous times of my life. I close my eyes and touch, and the calm beauty of your face as l lay alone with you in the evening comes immediately to my mind. My fingers read, my mind traces your scent, and I am at once far less alone than I was when I opened the door to this long still hall. It echoes here faintly and not because it is empty or devoid but because I am here alone. I enjoy the solitude, but wish I could draw the curtains of the adjacent rooms, push open those doors, illuminate this dim space, as I do when you are with me. No one knows of this place, and I will never permit anyone of course to enter. Those who know me may guess of this place, but the most meaningful times are of course mine alone, and I would find it only softens their worth to attempt to share their value to me with any one besides you.
The pasture of those memories I would forget stands just outside this house, and I occasionally find myself at the end of this hall, seemingly without deliberate purpose or intent, gazing out the lone window I have here, willing all I have turned loose in that field, asking all those sad hours, to remain at the end of the clearing, in the shadows of the woods, beyond the scope of my sight. I wish them no ill will, but I have taken from them all I want and resting is how I wish them to remain. The curtain is sheer, I need not draw it, and it’s filtered, pale light is all I have here.
I return, my fingers following the texture of the paper, the fragments of the hours we spend in bed alone and quiet. I touch the trim of the first door, and its sharp angle jolts my mind to that first sensual, passionate time we lived together. I caress the handle of the door and I am touching you gently, afraid to wake you suddenly, but longing to open this door and receive you onto me. I follow the horizontal radius of the wainscot and all the warm quiet days around our home unfold in a gauze of swirling recognition.
I walk alone, my heart full and pausing as I leave, close behind me the path to my happiness, and step again alone into the bright kitchen of a new morning without you.
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Light
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張貼於:2011年 11月 10日 6:07 am
最近編輯過:2013年 6月 28日 6:05 pm 3937 瀏覽
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From the mists of morning, light.
From the depths of darkness, hope.
From the songs of our past, renewal.
From the sum of our failures, the ability to love.
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