Morning chores
Everything
goes back to its place
except the kitchen stools
as you left them
in their new space.
I can't erase
traces of you
I can't erase
your words
from my exploding phone
your voice
from my missed-call mail.
Things to do:
Upgrade my memory chip
add to my space.
goes back to its place
except the kitchen stools
as you left them
in their new space.
I can't erase
traces of you
I can't erase
your words
from my exploding phone
your voice
from my missed-call mail.
Things to do:
Upgrade my memory chip
add to my space.
posted by Ruby Justice at 7:59 AM
2 Comments:
All the new spaces you find...the different arrangements and orientations...these all come from inside me, inside these imperfect walls, and when I pull them out from their wrapped darkness, into our World, they leave behind a space that aches with absence for you, and a feeling of emptiness that reverberates with oour once-connection, and a Nothing that remembers the Something that has moved.
Nothing is lost...all is present, it's simply odd for a small, simple being to feel his heart beating, instead, outside of his body...in your rooms and halls and eyeglances, and the hungry emptiness is a hollow ball of incompleteness, whose boundary ripples in ongoing loss, awaiting reunion with you.
If I touch every fiber of your being, it is in part because I struggle to find my way back, leaving markers and trails. I am so lost in you.
If I touch every fiber of your being, it is because I have never seen any place so beautiful.
Kahlil Gibran himself, couldn't have reached the spaces you just did..
In awe of your expression, your awareness, your magic touch.
Habibi.
xx
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