Epiphany

*This is a free write session with no form and no real flow, compiled over a week in 2005, by myself and S. Berry*
A Week In The Lives Of..

I find myself far too attached from too far away.
You call, and so it starts
Golden light warms my darkened soul. Your glittering eyes, shimmering. My fading eyes, awestruck.
The weight of my life, for a brief second, feels as light as a feather.
My troubles seem far away.
everything up in the air will come crashing down
and reality will assert itself,
once it figures out what the hell itself is.
i contemplate spitting this into your lap,
but the future holds me back
because there's always maybe to fall back on.
I think of her now like she hates me, like a tragic passing,
like an inflammation of my soul
that burned and burned and burned me out.
I think of her in color, her tragic smile,
but I think of her deep laugh and her silliness,
the silliness that I inspired.
It's getting cold, and I've forgotten the small things about you.
How torrid is torrid, my absent, distant love?

How thick does this go, how strong?

Her name is Epiphany and it rolls off my tongue.
Hard to differentiate between the word and the woman,
but there's always revelation to fall back on.
glory, if i could shed a tear for your scarlet rose
i hold tight because
i am so afraid to let you go.
i would bleed with you.
i have been touched by your words and
agonizing over inevitable dashing of hopes and dreams.
does this book close?
spinning centre of midnight,
i hold tight because
i am so afraid to let you go.
i wait in haste for the days that come and my own approaching arrival.
i need you so purely now, so without desperate grasping.
i keep you this secret and while i roll her hair in my two hands
i try to keep my glass smile from cracking.

memory of all this vacillating agonizing.
wait both of you in your warmth and i will hold our hearts together.

*Originally written with A. Harris in mind, with a concept that begs to be different.*

"In memory of A. Harris"