Dear - - - - - - ,
Twelve hours with you yesterday, and still I feel free from the logic of time.
We loved as deeply in our arcane affair as we had four years ago -- yet with awareness that we both were lacking then. What mystic gift has brought us here again? You mire me in contradiction: an atheist who feels we loved long before the fissure of the (nonexistent) soul.
I relive our ecstasies like clips of art-house film, spliced into a soundtrack of Susan Voelz, Jimmy Dale Gillmore, and Counting Crows. I see you sprawled across the bed, your exquisite form framed by the arched rail of the spiral staircase. I feel your back beneath my hands -- prone on a lavender sheet spread over dry pine needles. And your eyes -- pale sapphires that intuit me more truly than I may ever see myself -- I fall into your image, swimming inches from my own, through tangled strands of hair that land between our lips.
You revive me. Twelve short hours of your touch and I breathe deep again: the phantom limbs that ached intangibly are becoming real, aroused and opened by your love. You conjured up the bliss of all we had -- and all I now know I could be.
I want so many days like this -- even if we must wait months or years to alter angles of our geometric world. I will await more nights with you, sleeping entwined on wrinkled cotton sheets, making love in the space between dreams.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Acute Triangle Degrees: An Open Letter to a Former Love
Labels:
alchemy,
creativity,
friendship,
love,
nature,
philosophy,
poetry,
revival,
writing
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment