A thank you note…….
Hospital or bathroom? It’s so hard to tell these days,
every smooth surface sterile, that unnatural light
banishing even the hint of a shadow. Washed clean, shaved
clean….cleanliness is next to godliness, the
Hypocratic oath?
But in front of the mirror, a figure casts a heavy
shadow. The morning ritual, basin-water always just
hot enough to burn. Deadly blade, loosely gripped by a
hand. A hand which remains deathly still, though the
blood of every potential act of violence rushes
through its veins. And its purpose? Misdirection,
the projection of a stainless image.
But the slightest of cuts, as for the quickest of
moments that violent blood wins through.
And the tiny droplet hurtles toward the water and
shimmers on the surface, the devil’s eye staring
straight back at him. And it swirls in the water. A
red opaque. And it draws him in, accuses him, comforts
him…………
A slender hand reaches across his stomach, never
startling. And he sees a new image in the mirror. And
she sees how he trembles. And the kindest of lips
kiss the back of his neck.
“Paul, honey…….your coffee’s getting cold. Finish
up, I miss you already.”
And you are always there, reminding me that to love
you and be loved by you………..that is a constant
redemption.
Darkness always afforded me the most luxurious
anonymity, but no longer and for that I will be eternally grateful.
a woman’s hands are quick,
with fingertips like moths that sometimes perch
on ticklish knees or angled shoulder,
flit through hair searching for light,
a dance across skin, one imperfect nail dragging
behind the others — a scratch to remind
even moths can be dangerous
as your fire holds her captive
Lucky you, it seems.
Lovely, absolutely lovely. And indeed, lucky to have love as a constant presence.
Very well written, Paul. The style of my writing tends to be more journalistic than anything else, but I think I’d like to try dabbling in a poetic style like this post. Maybe if I were in love with someone, instead of just heartbroken from my last relationship, I would be inspired to write something like that. Oh well, someday soon…
Paul, this is beautifully written. You must really love her.