Dream Life

                                       There is a reason the sky gets dark at night. We were not meant to see everything all the time. We are meant to rest and trust under this bold, full dark sky. Because no matter how heavy the shadow fill the night, in time, we will see morning sunlight. We will see that even though we were tired, weary, and we could not see the ground beneath our feet, somehow, we still moved forward. We still pushed through. And it might take years to see how all of this comes together. We might not always see the pieces fall in place in the timeframe in which we desired. But this does not have to stop us from resting, and trusting that we will not always be here. We are not stuck at this  stage. As terrifying as they may be, our present uncertainties will not last forever. The pieces will come together in their time. We will grow in the way we were  meant ...

                                         I want to talk about the aftermath of love,     not the honeymoon or the hitherto;     but the upshot and the convalescence,     the slow, hard hauling --the heavy tow. I want to tell you about those evenings,      that crept inside like a vagrant cat;      and cast around its drawn out shadow,      untoward--- insufferably black. I want to write about the mornings,      the sterility of the stark, cold lights;      struck against a pair of bare shoulders,      the lurid whisper of a misspent night. I want to convey the afternoon setting,      the water torture of the sink;      drip by drip, the clock and its ticking,      and too much time left now to think.

                                                        I do not love you as if you were salt rose , or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret , between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when , or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I Know no other way than this: where I does not exist , nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.