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where echoes come to rest
'is this where echoes comes to rest?' (aperture, sleeping at last)
peel back your skin, allow the world to look right through your heart.
(i tell him: don’t dig too deep, you won’t like what you find. but i didn’t say it loud enough or the words got mixed up or i kept them inside of my mind because i have trouble letting things go.)
someone or something dug a hole in our backyard and i’m not sure what to fill it with. maybe i could store all my love for you in it, but then the world would be flooded with love (it needs it though). it has been a few days and i’m still struggling to figure out how to fill this emptiness. so i decide to turn towards the stars, which in this case (and all others) means i walk inside our home and search for you.
baby, come on down, i need your help patching up this wound. you don’t come down though. you aren’t inside, i don’t know where you are or where you went. come back quick, this loneliness is becoming unbearable.
i go back out to the ordinary hole and stare down into it. nothing gazes back up at me; i’m not sure if i should be relieved or not. though i can decide later, not all feelings come right away. being alone makes me uneasy, so i search for what caused this hole. was it me or nature? that’s always the question, isn’t it? this time… i’m uncertain; perhaps it could’ve been both of us, but i can’t find any shovels nor dirt under my nails so it must not have been me. i should’ve known because when was the last time i created something (and enjoyed it)?
i’ve grown bored of searching for a source. oh darling, won’t you come back? what’s so interesting out in the world?
be my persephone and leave the world behind for a while. i’ll keep you as warm as you’d like. oh lover, i’m growing lonesome. rid this world of its spring and allow nature to cover that hole with snow. (i’ll be honest, i don’t think we’re hades and persephone. we’re more of orpheus and eurydice in the underworld… but i’ll tell that story later).
it’s been days since i’ve seen you last. come on back and wrap me in your embrace. place those cold hands on this warm body, my forever winter. hurry back, all this waiting makes me restless. as if you’ve been listening all along, the leaves rustle and fall. the wind circles around, whispering: “wait just a little while longer.”
by the time you return to me, the full moon has come and gone. there is no hunger in my bones, only want and desperation. you’ll have wished you came home sooner. be glad i waited, though i don’t believe i’ll ever have the strength to leave you. when you greet me, there’s a bouquet of forget-me-nots wrinkling in your grasp. there’s dirt under your nails, you tell me it’s from digging the flowers up (but you’ve never been that good of a liar). i remove the flowers from your grip after letting my lips map out your face because it’s been far too long. you travel back out front for more flowers and i repeat the process over and over again until nightfall.