Three Years

Three Years

The sun was shining bright beams this morning.
Carried in the hands of a cobalt sky.
Apollonian lanterns giving way to the death of night.
I stepped into the shower and let the warmth envelop me.
Under turquoise tiles, my toes crinkled and I felt my eyes close.
And then it was happening all over again.
The remembering.

 

I was spirited away in a stream of my own consciousness.
I ignored the water pelting my face.
Like rain puddle splashes and fleshy car crashes.
I felt the rawness of it all.
I was no longer present to feel my fingers dimple and wrinkle,
I kept the conditioner in my hair far too long –
greasy softness too oily for any fingers to caress.

I looked past the marble wall and the cigarette fog glass,
I stayed in a Sunday and Monday of concerts and musical eyes.
Anniversary dinners of sizzling oregano and lavender and cardamom.
Kissed by ruby lips and melted by honeyed melodies.
A diamond necklace round my neck,
two lightning orbs with an electric sparkle.
Their heat could not be dimmed.
Those beautiful and fiery sunwarriors.

I feel quite stupid now, really.
The warmth is just water.
The heat is just condensation.
The music is just humming in my head.
And it is just another Tuesday.
It should have been three years today.
But it is just another Tuesday.

I stepped out of the shower and into the birth of day.
And the sun just keeps on shining.

Comments

  1. Addison Taylor says:

    “And it is just another Tuesday” << so simple, but I really liked this line.

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