Night after night

Lips pale as death, skin yellow, blood drained from the face. The body grounded in place. I wait for time to pass, I pass time by, quietly the head dips down, the receptors are full. Clouded, gently, lightly blocked at the ends of their tendrils, like a light display on the ends of plastic strings, a sea creature encased in ice. Beautiful yet frozen, a kid playing. Sacred water, we let it melt through the night and at the rise of our bodies with the morning light we wet our lips. A close second to the sweat that drips, or the wetness by another name, tears spoken of yet not yet shared. A promise that one didn’t cry, “I swear I didn’t, I swear. Trust me, I didn’t cry”. A voice calls out, a joke behind the words yet hollow for the truth is that we always could. We could always cry to be together again. To share in the common knowing of what is yet again, what we’ve been through, again. What you’ve done for me, over and over again. Why you are to me. In all of your entirety, it’s time to remember again. Yet we sit behind our own walls of protection to ensure we’re not shattered at the hands of another, not again, not like last time we went out into the deep, pulled down by hands at our ankles, cruel jokes at the expense of our kindnesses. Tender brave hearts who buried themselves under coats and layers of ideas; picking the skin and declarations that all looks will fade. A hiding away, shying away from the light of being seen, witnessed while undressed, physically and in spirit. To show the soul, the real soul, who you are, who I am, who we’ve been, what we’ve fought for, who they all see and know us as. It’s time for us to see, it’s time for us to know, it’s time to recognize and live our own beauty. It’s time to come into the light again, together again. Bring it to the surface through what I see, what I know, what I feel, what I witness and experience through you.