Letters To You… (2)

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Complications are most frustrating. I do not know how to speak to you still, I don’t even know how to begin a conversation… so I send you songs and subtle wishes, hoping that you will realize. I would love to be myself around you. I would like to whisper kisses with the rain and hope that you will feel them. I would like to be the sand on the beach you walk on, to radiate warmth and to tickle gently… I would like to be the glass of Merlot, to feel your breath on me, to fit comfortably in the curves of your lips before you indulge in a sip of me. I would like to linger as an after-taste, an evident memory of some distant time and place…

Hearing the melodies of songs that lead me into the head-space of you. I have lied to myself. I have filled the empty spaces with different faces in attempt to erase the memory of you. I wanted to banish it,to fall in love with someone else… to mean it. I cannot say that I love you, but I know that I feel you.

This takes me back to the time when circumstance brought me into the cage of convenience. Living day by day in a falsetto, I lost  hope… Sitting on the bedroom floor and moping the dirt away with my tears as a detergent. Fate took pity on me that day.

“Happiness hit her like a train on a track… coming towards her, stuck still no turning back…”…

“That was Florence and the Machine with Dog Days are Over right here on Tuks fm, please stay tuned for the latest on…government…”

Your name escaped from the depths of somewhere in me I never knew existed, and the teary smile could not be prevented then. I cried and smiled and mopped and knew that there was something I had to succeed for… I didn’t know you back then either but I felt you… you must have felt me too.

I got dressed that evening with confidence and purpose, I cleared my thoughts and proceeded to work. The night was a little cold, the restaurant was empty… I thought of you  and wondered whether I’d ever see you again. I had seen a lady who resembled you many times but I knew she wasn’t the one who stole my breath and knocked the strength out from under me.

There you were… as radiant as I had ever seen you, your face winded me and I shook like a leaf in a storm.

Composing myself, the glass of wine was delivered… then the conversation… the memory of your eyes and smile, the contours of your face… the longing to trace each of them, to follow my gaze into the depths of you. I wanted to understand the secrets to your heart and keep it with me and scream out to the world so that everyone may know that true connection is irreplaceable.

You’re such a big part of me… but I can and I have lived without you. When winter gracefully announces herself, the scent of the season reminds me of that space… that dismal moment… incapable of reaching out or speaking out or fighting, I let you slip back into the grasp of the other.

I want to be brave enough… no,not yet.

The story is not complete.8565005911_3226c37790_z

Letters To You…(1)

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I am reminded of you no matter what I do.

There are parts of my life that I cannot quite remember, they are usually those which do not include thoughts of your face or voice… I promised you that I would one day tell you the stories of yourself that you have not yet heard…

This is the beginning of those stories although not chronologically at the start; this is the first time that I feel you deeply in a very long time. You press yourself to my chest like a comfortable pillow, impatiently waiting for our contact. The cinema seat cradles me and the pre-film music prepares me and I can almost smell the way the atmosphere smells when you’re close to me.

I remember that life is not unbearable… I think of you and know that you are in my life, you have found me and oh my – you pull me out of the gutter like a magnet designed to lift my heart up – out from under the layers of ‘hell’. Like a quiet whisper which calls me to itself over, and over, and over…2007_11_serendipity

You are my teacher, yet you are unaware of how much I learn; from your silence, your distance and disposition.

I am deciding, that cliché as it may be; I will write… each thought of you and colour as well as I can the squiggles and dots with this pale ink in my grasp.

I will clear my heart out and fill it with the innocence of my feelings… I will purify every dirty speck in my anatomy and mind with the sanctity of our memories, or rather; my memories of you.

I will focus every bit of pink and turn it into black – and blue.

Black… as the night sky of my humble realization that you bring me comfort.

Black… as the space which surrounded us when you touched my hand.

Black as my room, black as the landscape whenever my face lit up the world at the sight of you.

Black as the innocence at the roots  of my core, black as the infinite grandeur of my craving for… blue.

Blue… as the shimmer in your eyes when the same coloured your coat and you’d waltz onto my territory…

Blue… as the morning sky when expecting your return to this continent…

Blue as the dreams while you sleep at night…

Blue as the watch on my wrist, the pen in my hand, the covers of my bed, the clothes that I wear…

Blue as the colour Black chose to remind her of you…

Blue… as a dream come true!

Pre-Noir

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I need to create an instance, a circumstance where light is eradicated. What would humanity be if we were to live in darkness?

What would humanity see?

How would you react if you were to suddenly be shown that the core of humanity is actually demonic?

Is it so difficult to understand that darkness is at the core of our natural state of being?

When you close your eyes… you re-generate into a state of darkness. We wake to light – to

live the surface life of flesh and ‘sin’… our fake i.e: carnal-lives are composed of what we term as “light”.

Darkness does not provide for the flesh or the body… even so – some of our most physically gratifying moments stand out in our memories as moments of pleasure under a dark blanket in the arms of someone we love.

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The blind may not see but they dream as we dream and imagine as we imagine!

Switch your light off and see what happens!

Become still and unfettered.

We need  to be freed from the blinding light in order to win beneath the veil, to fight the battles that many are still unwilling to acknowledge!

What is the use of making love if our souls fail to sing out louder than our physical bodies do?

Where am I going with this?

We all want to be heard or seen, but in reality, all we actually strive for is to connect, to be FELT and RECEIVED instead of rejected. In darkness rejection would be impossible… there you would simply have the magic between souls and the texture of it.

At some point in my life, a sip of Gin could help place a smile back onto my face.

What a paradox…

Loving something as clear and see-through as Gin yet romanticizing the darkness.

The hero of my own literature shall then be named ;

Noir…

Gin Noir!