the sky is telling me stories. with its golden-hued clouds and glowing setting sun, the darkening and the lightening as time moves constant and along.
things are falling into chanced and beautiful placing. things are coming and going both rapid and slow and i find myself in the middle of it watching it float by in this mysterious happenstance. the difference is
now i see it.
as a ray of sunshine lit a too-near horizon – in all the places you’d never expect it – and i looked up and it caught my eye and i thought of something poignant and right just at that time, it put chills up my spine and goosebumps on my skin.
so many things needed to happen for me to find you.
it’s not crazy, it’s perfect.
like the sky and its stories and the winding trails to understanding the enigmatic electricity that pulses through our veins.
i feel alone / i know you’re there.
the contrast is blinding and beautiful.
i’m not lonely because you’re there, loving me.
and i love you.
i see you in the stories in the extraordinary, shielding sky we share our days and sleep beneath
and dream beneath
and miss one another
the one thing that will bring you back to me.
stories flooding and raining and coursing on the wind
as you fly home.
full of aching and yearning,
it’s weighing me down.
my heart hurts because it’s full, because i love. but somehow, tonight, i can’t bring that thought around
to all its truth and depth and loveliness.
it just keeps hurting and i don’t know how to shift it or shake it or change it, it hurts because it’s heavy because i love because i miss him.
tonight, i’m just a little more scared than usual to sleep, to dream alone.
nights are the hardest. they pull me apart. i turn into just pieces of me. they don’t quite fit back together without you.
i feel you from here. i feel you in my thoughts and dreams. i feel you in the quiet and the steady and the gentleness of my loneliness.
and then i feel you fast and strong, in the whirlwind of my days and the noisy, rustling wind that stirs outside my window and the ticking in the ceiling that has no cause or source. i know you think and dream and feel me too. but life is just so much sweeter when i’m with you.
so come back to me and bring my heart, bring yours too. come back to me darling, come home soon. no more airport goodbyes, no more last nights or mornings or meals or drives. just this next time to last us forever. yeah, that’d be just fine.
[one stormy day in sydney]
i ache in colour and rhyme,
in love and lust
and like everything else i feel it all too deep.
well below the surface it swirls and kicks and edges closer to the thin and fragile membrane of my full and fluttering heart.
deep and honest and real.
[photo via nasa]
i think of you, watching that blood red moon, holding in it all the sunrises and sunsets of all this world in one.
i stare at my moon tonight and imagine,
for a moment,
you are staring too, and just like that i catch your thoughts with mine.
i miss you. the days are just so different from so far away. i’m scared the smell of you and our summer will fade the more i wash my hands my skin my clothes. so i avoid all the feeling that comes from all the knowing of that space between,
you see, i need you.
i need you in a way that makes my heart ache and ache.
i do know
all the world that lives in me,
in that moon
it lives in you too.
it breathes your breath into my lungs, i taste your sweetest thoughts, i feel your blood run through my heart.
it beats in a rhythm that could never tell us apart.
it beats in a rhythm of love and love and love.
[hall of mosses. hoh rainforest, washington.]
ripples from raindrops in a forest made of moss. i miss you
though it hasn’t been too long…
but my sobs and your words and reddened eyes and our hands that held each other’s tight tight tight take me back and put me right where our bodies left off.
and it makes my heart throb in aching and pining
and it makes me want time to rewind
to fast forward
to just not be right now.
though i want the now the happiness the love to fill me in the loneliness.
i want the emptiness to end and the you to start all over again.
it’s okay to be vulnerable, he said.
a loving conviction that cut through bone and brick and beat into my heart in an instant of knowing and crumbling.
so i crumbled into his chest and made his skin all wet with the saltiness of undoing and the emptying of ego.
i breathed staccato breaths and buried my worry in blinks and swallows as he held me tight and pressed his kisses to my forehead.
it’ll all work out.
i know, i said.