Your name is like a song I heard when I was a child. A dance of shadows beneath the glare of bright lights, maybe the sound of rain on a stained glass window. Do you remember the platform where our voices gave birth in the night air? Or the hollow beneath it where we read music and I gave you a blue sticker of a flying unicorn? Sometimes I wonder if the halls where we walked still contain the fragments of our ghosts.

I never wrote you confessional poems on pastel stationary or longed for your touch beneath the winter stars. I never painted my face for your admiration or cursed the day you were born. I was a silent pale shadow and you -- a voice I longed to hold somewhere deep inside.

If the vagabond in my heart hadn't beckoned me to the other side of the world,
...perhaps then I would have been around to save you.

Copyright - Cho S. Kucifer 3.28.11

wings & shadows

You used to say you would fly away - unfolding fragile wings, soaring beyond the purple heavens and broken glass oceans of our world. I used to say I would be forever grounded, the roots of my heart twining into the earth, pulling me deeper into shadow. But it is I who chose to leave and you who wished to remain. The wings I have are new and still shake in the wind, and I wonder if you have yet found a way to breathe underground, underwater.

~*~

You and I. We were melody - song and dance, touch of gold on sapphire, bend and twist of fingers, bruised almond and porcelain. I cannot remember the way our hands and voices met and parted, becoming a living being, another essence. But I'll never forget the end.

You told me we would see each other again. So certain, like one who has never known a parting. I looked into your eyes and knew even if you didn't that this would be goodbye.

~*~

Last night, I saw you again and you were beautiful - an aura of sea glass with the sun reflecting through, the colored lights of ferris wheels that spin in your eyes.

Just like you always had been.
As if nothing at all had changed.

~*~

"We still look the same," you said to me once. I smiled with you, wondering how you could not see the difference time has made.
Perhaps you will always be blind to what has changed around you. Perhaps that is the fate of those who choose to live underground.

As those who choose to fly are always meant to see.

(Copyright - Cho K. 3.4.11)