I dreamt a symphony of sleep paralysis last night, and in this dream, Tartini came to show me how to dance the waltz of virtuosity. Agile fingers tripped along the string of my being, their allegro moderato promenade striking carnal chords of hunger. While I rode this cresting wave — this swelling expectancy of ecstasy — the devil trilled the the bitterest pleasure in my ear, and I reached for you in the liminal space between the notes. The reverberations of sound held in abeyance resonated within my diamond core and shattered, pulling me out of myself and into the cosmic embrace.
Beneath fairy lights she sits
contemplating her next steps
like a grandmaster strategist
surveying the field of battle;
one wrong move could mean
sacrificing her queen
to destruction and damnation.
The cool breeze
of an April night time sky
kisses her skin
and envelopes her
with the memory of a life
she has tried to forget.
The stars do not shine for her,
and there is no running
from their absence.
The silent moments between
the breathing of the wind
are pregnant with promise.
In the distance,
as in herself,
a storm brews.
In response to Daily Prompt: Glimmer
Featured Image: Pixabay – “Twinkling Lights” by PublicDomainPictures (CCO Public Domain)
We stand hand-in-hand leaning over the railing of the little bridge that crosses the river in the park behind our house while the city behind us becomes a kaleidoscope of light in the icy water below. We’ve been here a thousand times repeating the same ritual, repeating the same wish, repeating the same crushing weight of always knowing the answer is no, but we come back anyways because hope is all we have left now. We drop the last tiny paper crane into the water, a silent plea cast out through the darkness like a message in a bottle to the world, and we watch it flutter to rest on the water’s surface and bob up and down as if replying “Your resilience and faith has been rewarded – wish granted” before its pulled under by the current.
In response to: Three Line Tales – Week Eighty-Three
Featured Image: Dev Benjamin via Unsplash
Special thanks to Sonya at Only 100 Words for hosting these Three Line Tales every week.
This is a notion I’ve heard many times before but which didn’t fully realize until I shared the room with individuals from all over the world: Hungary, Croatia, the Netherlands, and Italy. The full gravity of it hit me when a Syrian refugee and educator shared stories of how she would play music for her students to drown out the sound of airplanes and bombs. Carl Sagan says we are all made of stars. Instead of trying to dim them because of their differences, I think it’s time we celebrate the things that make our fellow stars shine.
We all are made of
We all feel
There are a million things that we aren’t.
There are a million and one things that we are.
When we look at comparisons,
holding ourselves up to
or someone we think should be our mirror,
we always look at the one thing that makes us different.
By doing so, we either
negate the other person
because we believe our difference is more important,
or we negate ourselves
because we believe our difference makes us somehow deficient.
we should be looking
at the one thing that makes each of us unique
and celebrating the miracle of improbability
that created it.
It’s all in the connotation of things.
The way we see things in either:
lightness or darkness.
love or hate.
lament or celebration.
We all try to dim
our fellow stars,
but it doesn’t have to be this way.