2004-03-18

Kiss me...

4 a.m.--wake up to absolute silence, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock. I want to escape into the foggy night and not return, yet I stay...drink coffee, take a shower, and admire the yellow flowers on my nightstand.

The sun rises and the flowers' gentle fragrance greets me now...the world is alive and joining me. I want fresh flowers on my nightstand forever, I want more rain, I want more ink for my pen, I want blacker hair, blacker eyes--more instensity...more intensity is what I want.

I didn't eat dinner yesterday, the plate stood there--cold, decorated with an array of vegetables...I didn't touch it. I don't care for it...

The candles were lit in my bathroom as the faucet turned on, releasing the hot water. Fogged mirrors and drops dancing on my skin, "What's wrong with me?" I asked, whispering the words and letting them resonate through the vanilla mist.

I didn't want to let go, I just couldn't...something in the back of my mind told me not to hang up the phone--keep the sound of his voice for as long as possible. Take the sonorous rhythm and trap it in a crystal box, lock it, and don't lose it.

Lone writer standing in the moor, the velocity of my soul is far too great to measure. Everything is a frenzy--kiss my hand, my neck, my heart...

aeka at 5:17 a.m.