In Bloom, Once more (anew)

We lie inches and yet miles apart; wrapped warm in the single duvet of my childhood bed in my Dad’s house. Her eyes gleam like sapphires and her hair sits comfortably on her gently freckled shoulders, ablaze like the fires of Agni’s fist, purifying the world through light and flames. We dream of our futures together; all its possibilities and its infinite eventual outcomes. Where we will go, who will still be by our side as we walk the path of life. Certainty is a myth, yet I find comfort in the uncertainty we share. We are a house divided against itself, yet we still stand.

Her eyes bite me in ways her teeth cannot. Every passing moment, her deep, intoxicating gaze stretches to further unreachable ends of the cosmos and I watch as she tears her way through. She breaks under my skin, delves deeper through my pupils and scorches her way through my brain, replacing messages with thoughts of bliss and images of Aphrodite.

She speaks, yet all I hear is the soft sound of Cupids harp, accompanied by Apollo’s sweet voice.
“And from his brains
They sculpted the grim cloud,”
her words were soft to the touch, spoken like whispers as she runs her fingers though my bleach blonde bangs. It’s like she knew. She knew of every thought pattern, every idea, every memory, every dream. We share one mind.

Her breath is like ice, minted and cold.

She is the Skadi to my Ullr, the Harley Quinn to my Joker, the Rachael to my Ross and the Juliet to my Romeo. She is sister, lover and mother to me. She is everything I ever hope to be and beyond that a thousand times. She is the dog to my cat. She completes the circle. She fills the hole in me that I always imagined would remain forever empty; my soulmate.

“I love you like the Sun loves the moon.”

“How is that?” She asks me, fighting a giggle, a slight twitch in the corner of her mouth.

“You bring balance to my life. You reflect my light when I cannot see in the dark.”

She whimpers, and tightly shuts her eyes; not through fear of fear, but through the surprise of love.

We are an observational partnership. We move separately in tandem, like the winding track of a country rail. We follow the same path. We walk the same road. We watch the world as if it never stops, as it never does when we’re not alone; as the cogs of industry turn and the walls are filled with rows and rows of brick upon brick, all the same, never changing. We remain a spirit.

How do I love thee? I simply cannot count the ways. Throughout all our smiles, tears and fantasies played out, I simply cannot focus. Your face bewilders me. These ‘love goggles’ you fix to my face are far too tight; I can never see around them. Gods and Goddess alike sit tall atop Olympus, yet you create a grey area. The cannot see around it. You are like smoke to the wind. They are blinded by your light. I am blinded by your grace.

It is only euphoria when I am with her. Sometimes its sorrow, though sometimes it’s peace, but never euphoria, not without her. I cannot remain one. We have become something far greater than ourselves, a collective. A union without space to break, or room to budge. Our souls press together like the densest of polymers, as she wraps her warm leg around mine and we intertwine. Our love is inhuman; it’s sublime. A love like ours cannot be labeled with mortal words.

Every bed without her in it is broken.
Every day without her in it is void.
Any house without her in it can never be my home.

“So you may find in each other what you came here for. And trust that this is love because it is. And tangled lives you may lead but into each other, never apart, till you cannot distinguish between being and being together.”                         – Iain S. Thomas



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