Still, I imagine you resting there caught between layers of fabric sensations. What was, in that fanciful construction. What is, the toppled pillars of memories, can you still feel me there now? Oh so many breaths taken there next to you in that sanctuary. Each kiss being a brick, we built kingdoms that innumerable span between dusk and dawn. Since then time batters sweet memories as the unrelenting waves threaten the tentative peace of the rocky shore. Drifting away are the ways I gently bit your lower lip, signifying punctuation to those long drawn embraces. Fading are the memories of you in your surprisingly determined frame. Toes dancing and my tongues fruitful journeys to nowhere knowing. We had allowed ourselves life. Drinking it in, letting it fill us, allowing it to fall onto the floor dancing upon it, because it was ours, my sweetly departed muse.
However, the calls that unite are also the calls of separation. We began to unweave. time recasts its net and so we become unpressed and untangled again, as sunlit laced curtains billowed knowing nightfall will soon return. Time spent on the empty lines was mine alone, re-imagining the landscape of no more goodbyes. Strangely enough I began to smell like myself again. The day ebbed, hands throbbing, trapped within the rooms prevailing silence. Drawing in, I want to scream and claw at life’s uncertainty. Letting go, i’m reminded when I have nothing, I have only breath, and I am eased. How lovely the concept of oblivion to committal or leisure. Only now, words fail to stand up to the images held. My body and its sensations no longer mine alone.
Only now, I measure the world according to how once knew it and how i want it to be again. The heartbeat of the muse can never arrive too soon, and is never far away. Blissful rediscoveries according to the truths found in pressed sighs. Twisting explorations, unveiled and trembling, until then ink and dying lights carry your memory.@4 months ago with 30 notes
#memory #attachment is only borrowed #muse