Clearing out the attic….still.

They lay, two of them, bodies enfolded, fingers entangled in hair, the sound of one heart beating. “Make me understand…”, he said, “…for sometimes it feels as if hurting me lets you take one more breath.”
She lifts her head from where it nestles in his shoulder, holds his eyes with hers. “My love…”, her voice is like an embrace before dying, “….why do you always ask for nothing less than my soul?” And she sighs, but it is the sigh of one who knows that never again does she want to be asked for anything less. “Okay, I will try….”

And so she says…..

when you are not here
it is day without night
it is a touch without skin
it is wing without flight

when I cannot feel you
it is note without song
kiss without taste
and right without wrong

when I cannot hear you
it is warmth without cold
sky without cloud
have without hold

when I cannot keep you
it is life without death
thirst without water
air without breath

and though my world will always have colour and laughter and that addiction that is seeing a glimmer of recognition in another, when you are not here my world does not have you.

And then she lay her head down again, and let his breathing stroke her face. He said nothing, but she could feel in his silence that, at last, he understood.

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~ by tenmiles on August 13, 2008.

3 Responses to “Clearing out the attic….still.”

  1. …and she began unbuckling his restraints. The dishes weren’t going to wash themselves, were they?

  2. (Bloody Noord.)

    But for what it’s worth, this reminds me. Reminds me of what I need to be reminded of. That the way we love each other is not always the way we expect to be loved. And the trick is in the listening, not the asking.

    Now. I have to go and consider a world in which touch is without skin. Eish.

  3. Dude. While cleaning out da attic do you think dat you could update da blogroll? ‘cos some of dem dere links are waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay out of date 🙂

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