Cleaning out the vault. Apparently it helps…..

I have died a thousand deaths in this lifetime. At the end of each day, when I close my eyes, it is not dreams that welcome me, but rather a vortex of the lives and souls of all who die with me. And when morning comes, I do not wake from sleep, but am reborn. Each day is a life, each first breath of the morning is a first breath of life.

And even though I am reborn to the same life as the one I left the day before, I am not the same person who lives this life. I may look the same, but the changes are still there. Perhaps today I will fall in love with the smell of traffic, perhaps today it will be the sounds of jazz that soothe me. Did I love the taste of coffee yesterday? I do not know. That stranger in the lift, did I know him yesterday? It takes a few second, and then I remember. Yes, he works with me. And I remember who he is, remember his history, but will I like him today?

And yet one thing remains constant. No matter how many times I die and am reborn, every time I see your face, it is the only face I never forget. And though I have never stopped loving you, each day I fall in love with you anew. And so it shall be, for a thousand more deaths and rebirths. Every detail changes, every relationship alters, every sound and every taste and every sight is always different to how I remember.

But you, You move to the sound of a song no one else seems to hear, a rhythmic sway, almost imperceptible, but it lends a grace to your motion, as if you had walked off the pages of a Victorian novel, or the screen of some 1950’s movie where the heroine could slay a man with a look or the tossing of her hair. Is it a song no one else hears? Or is that your bones are made of music? I do not know. All I do know, is that watching you is to be entranced by something magical, to see how the air parts around you when you walk is to know that somehow, a room is always sadder when you leave it.

~ by tenmiles on June 18, 2008.

6 Responses to “Cleaning out the vault. Apparently it helps…..”

  1. “…That stranger in the lift, did I know him yesterday?…” Ja, it happens to me too. Aging is a bitch, isn’t it?

  2. Your writing never fails to tease, and tempt, and delight. This is simply lovely. A thousand carat dazzle right there.

  3. […] A 1000 carat dazzle … June 20, 2008 Filed under: Why can’t I write like this? — Parenthesis @ 9:06 pm Ten Miles does it again. […]

  4. This is one of the most beautifully written pieces I have read in a long long time. Now I know that you were a worthy opponent in the writing quest and that the best one had won!

  5. Flip word weaver. Now I have to go and think about this. Again. And again. Until my eyes believe and my heart rises to the challenge. That one day I will see or be seen with this kind of magic.

  6. Word weaver. Now there’s a brilliant description of Ten Miles if I ever heard one ….

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