Friday, August 28, 2015

20150226, a love letter

I want to indulge in offering you words as if explaining aspects of what occurred could somehow breach this layer of worry that beyond is nothing.  That this sphere I am interacting with from the inner to the external tapping like telescopic highways into the souls of the other beings I share my eternal in this temporal reality with is nothing.  That I could feel you the way I did and feel like my god the tidal wave and your reaction leading up to your departure led me to believe in the magic that this was not all in my head that a being I felt this far might actually reciprocate and offer the grail of vulnerability I have only truly imagined to materialize like this did not have to be a fleece chase. 

I thought how do things ever work out with anyone, how does the term equal investment come to pass, that the grand signaled plague to run has been aspirated into the breathing space so that continuing is toxic to that all important gameswomanship of being in need of no one.

I admit my faults and garbage bags of tumult stored in the idea that I am trying to shed in this conundrum that there is only so much even an enlightened man can grow out of alone.  I need love.  I need a body to devour me so that some of the scars don’t grow back.  I need a new body that tastes common essence piloted in eternal self.  Maybe we were lovers before and will be again, but in this here and this now I am dying for you to awaken, that these connections are not ant hills randomly packaged but meant to be startling and daring and ripping open like a seed shattering the change from orb speck into red wood.  Somewhere in the dark forest I am watching for a sprout.  Out there in that infinite possibility of iterated universe there is a sapling breaching the mirth flourishing in the realization of what love and hope and faith, and honest humanity nourish in the unknown of divine connections. 

I pray the way a man with the limited perspective of the human form offers to your flawed body that maybe you will choose the sunlight.  You will choose to develop a trunk from this tender stitched on the fabric of your eternal canvas undulating like atomic ballet imprinting a commandment to interconnect with the all.  This fire is pulsing in me and I offer you to make me explode. 

Reflex in foolishness storybook nonsense of love and veils, we can only choose.  


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