Saturday 24 August 2013

To an invisible best friend

Come to me, my darling. Let me hold you as you speak; let me hold you as you weep. I yearn to give you my embrace, to give all my loving to you. Because that's all I am good to do.

Come to me, my darling. I may not believe in love so more. But a disillusioned priest cannot his cassock throw. And though belief hath passed, the skill has not. So, come to me, let me hold you as your breast heaves your heart's beats.

Come to me. I can smile and listen to you share your life. We can use words, or stare into each others eyes; and let every thought through. Or you can lean on, as our bodies rub, our skins spread warmth and do the talking instead. We can hold hands, with fingers stealing a prance, or we can laugh over coffee, and a board game too. Or we can go outside and stare at the stars; not be magicked away, but wonder of the infinte space, time, continuum, and the worlds beyond.

We can share our daily cup of trifle and strife. And after that has passed, we can look, realise, smile, and laugh our tears away. With peals of laughter, joy, and fun.

With you by my side, everything is just beautiful and alright; the balls of your palm pressing against mine tell me I'm fine. And you are too. Your eyes, your face, your haze, tell me that it's the same with you; that I am loved, and needed; that you love me too.

Come to me, my darling. Let's run that park. I've got my camera, play-dough, a locket, a cheap bottle of rum, and a ribbon of velvet dark. Let's speak poetry, let's make the night dawn. Let's run into the trees, and sit by the swamp. Let us look up and let the winds take us with them. Let us run into the night, this psychedelic night, with the moon's crazy halo, Venus' glow, photons from light years ago. Let us close our eyes and make the weird bubbles blow. Come with me, my darling. I wait for you... With so much of love... With so much of love... Oh come to me, my darling.

Monday 5 August 2013

The Red Queen

Today, on the way to the bus: Bye M! You're running whenever I see you!

Fact of existence. You keep running and running to remain on the same spot.

So if you exist, that means you are running... running... running...


Disclaimer: Romantic generalisation.
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Curious? : Through the Looking Glass - Lewis Carroll, The Red Queen - Matt Ridley, The Red Queen's Race - Isaac Asimov