July 5, 2013
That’s where she existed best.
In the dark, in the light, high upon the rafters,
Perched above the clamor of civilization.
Where fog embraces light in the form of bulbous clouds.
Where the pangs of sorrow are dulled by the atmospheric civility that only floating can offer.
Where tears find home in rain,
Calmness in the breath of nothing,
and stillness in the charm of fluttered roses.
And just the mere possibility of all this, that desire to break free from skin,
It cruised beneath her heart and pushed against limp veins.
Like leather tightly wound against screaming bones,
She felt the itch of wanting to escape;
To melt past rattling walls and bursting bubbles.
But only with shut eyes and kept breath could she find the courage to leap.
And spinning in the solitary moment of her first step was truth flashing upon somber lids.
It was in the rain,
It was in the wind,
It was in the beat of the sun
and in every crater of the moon.
She was interwoven in the bliss of this deserted place.
Every night bathing in the light of the stars
And every morning dancing with a flock of wings.
In her despair she had surrendered to the dream and found triumph in the crux of her soul.
Pirouetted in the divinity of absolute mirth, alas she was home.