Phoesune

In the darkness I reached for her with a hand that could not or would not or more precisely should not, touch her. How could this happen when all I ever wanted was to just make it through the world unscathed. Obligations, a higher love, a deeper commitment all stand before me where I have placed them as the guardians of my heart. On the other side she sits there aware or unaware of her presence’s impact. Behind me stand the vast army of my emotions, needs, and desires in a thundering chorus of chants urging me toward her. The throbbing beats of the mob stand in sharp contrast to the stoic certainty of my condition. The vibrations crescendo as the air itself begins to tremble with the excitation of the throng. My mind is placed in a trance of opiatic fervor, like the numb fog of a ghanja cloud.

The world rushes away and she floats there as a darken angel aware of my high, a temptation yet never a temptress. I drift toward her driven forward by passionate feelings, long suppressed by the respect of my purpose, yet awakened by the hope of a singular revelation. This motion, transfixed by the reality of her, draws me no closer. The waver of the smoky sky, as it trembles and flies by, causes my uncertain heart to race and my thoughts to flutter. Emotions torn from their cages are flung on the wind toward her. They whisper enticements as they rush by me saying “Desire her”, “Touch her”, “Save her”, “Promise her”, “Worship her”, “Fear her”, “Lie to her”, “Kiss her”, “Take her”, “Shake her”, “Break her”, “Remake her”, “Impress her”, “Fight her”, “Romance her”, “Want her”, “Hide her”, “Own her”, “Lose her”, “Leave her.”

Each alluring seduction pulls at me to express themselves. Yet through all this wild exposure to the elements of her presence could not shake me from the truth and honesty that grounds me. The same earth of sincerity that holds my virtues firm and protects my heart. With a tremor of fortitude, the pillars that guard my soul begin to glow. The glow grows to a bright white glare and then in an instant, blasts into a blinding light.

As the world comes into focus, I begin to see around me. The twinkle in time is past and again I can see her there. I see her smiling with that curious smirk. She is behind dark glasses that hide penetrating eyes, looking my way she asks, “Are you alright?”

My response is simple, short, and oft repeated. “Yeah I am fine. I was just thinking about something for a moment.”

Her head tilts to the side and I can tell she knows I am deflecting. “Are you sure? Do you want to talk about it?”

She stresses the questions to encourage me to share, and to assure me that she really cares. I look around and think that this isn’t the place for this and this is not the time. I vow to myself to explain it later and in full clarity. So instead of telling her what happened in my heart, I simply say…

“It was nothing really, just nothing to worry about.”

In this moment though, after the storm has been settled, I can see her. There is no fog of emotions and no pillars of imagination. There is just she and I sitting in the sun talking about the lives we live and the lives we’ve had; two people touching mind to mind and heart to heart without pretense or promise. So when she tells me the tragedies of so long a life, I can see the woman that walked through those moments. I can see the woman struggling with her issues and trying to survive. I can see the woman behind her breasts not the object of my affections, not the fantasy of my passions, not the labels placed on her, but the woman herself sitting there and enjoying me even as I enjoy her. Just sharing our time, what little time our schedules allow, listening to one another, hearing each other, giving a damn about each other. So there is no feeling or emotion that could ever compete with that. No temptation in the light of this contemplation. Only the certainty of truth.