Darling Day 22. Eternity

Darling is how I feel eternity, soft in its gentle, drifting wind.

Their unspoken words ask me how I know them so well— how I can feel the softness of them— and I don’t know what to tell them, but to say that I just know the softness in their eye…is my own.

There is nothing between us, but the way we run, the way our bodies are fueled by different people and places and days.

Different moments, different hours of truth;

of lies;

of broken glass;

of peaceful moon.

I know that we are the same, because I feel them in eternity. All of them, dwelling in the place music swells and overflows, whispering to the world of tender days gone by.

Fear flashes in their eyes when I reach their walls and search for a ladder to climb. But what is to fear of a small human puff of sun? It is only a glimpse of the beautiful garden of us I am seeking.

How I long for their walls to tumble—for my own walls to crumble. To shriek and groan and crash to the ground, in a celebratory burst of:

I remember you.

Darling flower, wonderful and strange.

I remember you.