New sights, new smells, but sounds? No sound. Vacuum sealed shut, inside a tropical greenhouse where the air is the only language I hear. Its voice is…hot.
Hot syllables, hot paragraphs, hot articulation, hot communication. This language very new, what stories it must have and want to tell. Who will listen?
Listen I will, you have my attention, I hear and understand your tone. I won’t interrupt your thoughts and will let you explain your sizzled feelings. You breeze, I breathe.
Breath of humidity and your voice cracks. Sorrow I hear combined with relief and peace. You speak so slowly, softly and calmly. What a beautiful pace you set with words.
Words I can touch, taste and see. Like rays of colour shining into my bloodstream, filling my cells with rainbow brights and jet stream energy. This conversation I will not forget.
Forget the last time your temperature of tone went off kilter. Forget the way you feel ashamed for losing your composure. Forget the time your thunderstorm halted my journey home from the waves.
Waves, the way I hear you the loudest. How you drive your words into my mind straight up from my soles, my sandy steps, I sink, and you fill me up the more you say.
Say more to me, it’s a story I have never heard. No need to apologize for waiting for so long. Our timing is right, and I’ll listen until you’re completely finished and you feel free.
Free to be who you are in your heated, tranquil and soundless glory. Just because you’re quiet, just because you keep things in, does not mean there’s less to tell or you are less, there’s so much to glean.
Glean I do from you. You held a fire then with a sword put it out, as instructed to. Sweet air there is nothing to fear. I understand your frustration but I see you are now clean. The fire is out, the ashes cleansed, an established purity.
Purity in your mind for finding these words to speak to me in such delicate nature. I’m listening carefully and I reiterate your messages so you know that I know, this exchange is perceived with perfection.
Perfection you are not. Perfection you cannot be. Perfection is not me, perfection I never want to see. Raw and honest and true is how you speak, a comfort it is for you to tell me things you have held in and never spoke.
Spoke to like I’ve been listening for a decade. You have been waiting a long time. I hear the splashes of laughter underneath each sentence; There is trust, fairness and acceptance.
Acceptance, belief and surrender is all that there is. A harmony in energetic language understood only by those who see. See with their nose, their heart, their fingers and their feet. See using their gifts, mouth wide open hungry for release.
Release it all and let it go. You no longer have to search for someone to listen. I am here and have given you permission. Tell me everything, you are safe with me, I hold that promise.
She knows what she needs to do. This task, this ask, this duty is owed to her. She knows what she needs to do. So, why is it every time it happens her mind goes a blur?
Captive to thoughts, ideas, fantasy. The little twang of regret every single time. The position of her heart, now needing a canopy. The frailty of emotion resting on a dime.
Over and over the cycle continues, no one at fault. The spike in chemicals reminiscent of lost hope. The downshift and comedown, like opening and closing the vault. She thinks of this as a supposed easy thing to do but, nope.
Why oh why does she fly in a sky full of unruly feathers and scattered dirt? When really, her soul is calling her to the sea, alone and bottomless. Free. The decision each moment, to be what is known, causes hurt. She is stronger and faster and will no longer agree.
She knows what she needs to do, but it is taking a toll. Shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t, it is not for her anymore. Letting go, a triumph of will, mind strength, resisting the pull. This year of fire and of stallion, causing massive movement and heated chore.
The race to find peace among chaos and intensity and false lore. One more taste of the divine to set her free at last. The momentum strong, but consistency is a bore. She wants it all or nothing at all, and settles for a moment, in the comfort of the past.
Staying right here, right now, seeing without scars. There are people waiting for her, she is not deaf. The silent gift of seeing, knowing, keeps her outside on Mars. She cares deeply, wants you to know, but she’s different now, take a breath.
What appears insignificant to some, strikes her like a thorn. She is wiser than what you imagine, even then some, and more. Stop the chase, the controlled wall, just let it all go and be torn. She isn’t like the rest, she holds gratitude and grace and loves to restore.
She knows the battle well, it continues day after day. But today is different, this day is saying, “say what you say, it will all be ok.” Trust in a higher power, the guidance and the proper way. She listens to her angels; she will nurture and explode, she is on her way.
You snuck in to come find me. I’m leaving, moving, there’s another place I need to be. The music is loud, pumping dramatic beats. I can see you over there, you are scanning the crowd, my body heats.
“He’s here, he wants to talk to you, say a last goodbye.” Says a friend of mine. “I don’t think I can, it’s too hard, I’m a mess, what if…I think I just need a sign.” “He is your sign, he showed up tonight, he knows you’re leaving, he’s only here for you, you can do this, it’s only nine.” “Ok, can you stay close when he comes, I need to know you’re here, just don’t listen but be near.”
The colourful light beams frolicking throughout this massive, high ceiling room. Chest is heavy, mind is spinning, I want to dance but I’m staring at you from a distance, you search the crowd for my gaze, I cannot swoon. Deep breath, boom, your piercing denim blues finally match my zoom. Our eyes are locked, you put down your drink and push your way through the sea of fantastical dancing souls to come to me. In this secret little corner, I am to cry very soon.
The DJ changes his tune something earthy and mysterious now, this is my vibing. Your walk to me feels like it’s taking a decade, your eyes are sweet and you’re smiling. I can hear them already, the descriptive way your blues speak, they say, “please stay, I know you won’t, I know you can’t, but please know I think of you every single day.” You’re here now, at the table I sit, you across from me, I can’t stay still, I must shift.
Elbows on the table, forearms down, your palms face up in front of us. I know this move, your usual gesture. It says with such clarity and ease, “Put your hands in mine, I am open, safe and here to listen to all that you say.” I slowly bring my hands to meet yours knowing the second we touch, this interaction, much harder. I will keep my words steady and continue on my way.
Your eyes reaching inside, they always find my soul with every breath, every loud pause, never leaving mine, not even for a second to look around, to be distracted. You calmly ask about the cause. I try to explain, both of our palms now sweaty, holding tighter. I tell you how I am broken down by the laws. The kind and loving way you listen and hold my shaking hands, you don’t see my flaws.
I can’t bear to look away from you for soon our eyes will never meet again. I’m soaking this up, relishing, dancing in your gaze, devouring every blink trying to make them tandem, so I never miss a thing. We are surrounded by a sea of loud movement yet, the room feels empty and quiet, very still. The beats pulsing our blood, the music consuming our veins, we are a thrill.
I must convey my gratitude, my love and my pain. You haven’t said much, I know you’re waiting and feeling quite slain. The way you’re looking at me tonight is different, it’s desperate to make me stay. I am stepping towards a future of new, a new day with a new way.
The tears pooling in your eyes, one, two, three drops as they fall down your dewy, glowing cheeks. You’re still smiling, but crying a soft tune. I want to brush the tears from your face, I want to kiss them and taste the salty liquid of you one more time. My heart can’t take this, watching you cry I need to bring you closer so our hearts can break together, and then somehow, attempt to take off and fly.
My mind searches for a memory we shared, to take me away just for a moment from this present hurt. That time you were so sweaty and frazzled and I tore off your shirt. I inch closer, you pull me in a bit, I lean, I can’t help but let you hold me harder and nearer, but there cannot be an ounce of flirt or the slightest scene. Except it’s too late, our souls were meant to roll around in the sun and in the dirt. What does it all mean?
Your hand reaches over to my face, cups my chin and my cheek softly, your head leans to one side. This body language of surrender and acceptance amidst the chaos from this stormy tide. Our hands part, leave one another for the last time. Am I making a mistake? No. I am not ok, but I am going to be just fine.
I could stare at your face all night but I need to push you away now, so I can regain and recenter my sight. You stand up to leave and I stay sitting. My heart is beating too fast, I’m panicking and losing my might. You come around the table towards me, this is fitting, I think I’m tripping, it’s a fright.
Standing beside me now eyes still locked, I can sense you’re thinking, wondering…I feel rocked. Your breathing is short, your chest raising fast, the light quickly shines on us, one bold move and your hands grip my face, our lips collide, our tongues embrace. This feels necessary, it’s perfect, to have this kiss to end the night. It feels sad and painful, with yearning, but it’s nothing less than very right.
Our lips glued together like magnetic fields, I know we have to stop, slow down, I didn’t have time to reach for and hold up my shield. Oh well, let this kiss imprint my body and soul. Let it drip with emotion and passion and then let it roam. Let it run, keep going, harder, sweeter, longer, more, because when we stop, I will let go and I will go home.
Your hands leave my face and our lips depart. You step away, tears still inside your heart. No more words, just intense stares. Five, six, seven seconds pass, you don’t look away, so full of care. You hesitate to turn, try to walk away but something is holding you, I want you to share, I want you to say. I want you to stay, I want you to walk away.
You wipe the wet from your eyes and turn your back to me in a strange disguise. Thank you sweet man, you are forever a treasure that felt much like a prize. Here we go now we can rise above the clouds and the stars because we know now the highs and the tries and what is forever ours. Watching you disappear into the crowd, the music knows that it’s over. I am alone now, sitting here with my wise and my cries. Then…one last look, over your shoulder.
Emma Wisdom 