you are

the dream I cling to in the waking moments, the limbo moments, the moments in between moments when reality is at it's faintest, it's thinnest, as yet undefined, as yet unadulterated by the stuff of being

...as yet perfect.

the air I breathe, the gasping breath, the rasping breath, the life giving breath tasted much more than felt, like honey to the tongue, golden sweet to the eye, like silk to the touch, rich and sultry to the skin

...like beauty unspoiled.

the earth beneath my feet, the birthing place and final rest, the foundation and fount of sustenance, more than the heady heights and the darkest depths, more than the cacophony of colour and the simplicity of still nothingness, more than words, layered and complex, more than sound, soothing the savage soul

...more than the sum of all alls.

you are

hope

There is something to be said of hope.
That inspirer of creativity,
lifter of heads and
fuel for fire in the engine of change.

There is something to be said of hope.
That uncanny shaper of fates,
transformer of hearts and
source of grace notes with which the grey and solemn march of life is beautified.

There is something to be said of hope.
That sweetener of the sourest fortune,
lens through which every silver lining is found and
ceaseless caretaker in the orchard where dreams are nurtured.

There is something to be said of hope.
In a people desperately seeking it,
in hearts whose stores have run dry
to vision grown dim by disappointment.

There is indeed something to be said.
But the better things are often known yet,
rarely spoken enough.    

...have hope

she

There are only so many reasons to do anything. Correction, there is only ever one reason to do anything. Desire. Everything after that is nothing more than purest moonshine. The plethora of excuses, explanations, rationales and whatnot that mankind has, throughout civilization, employed to mask this, our base motivation, is a testament to nothing more than our equal loves of fantasy and social acceptance. Since Adam, juice stains on his lips and sin in his belly, attempted to deceive the Almighty, Man has schemed to hide his desire. Often the delicacy of the cover up rivals even the intensity of the initial compulsion, but rest assured, at the foundation of any conscious action are the co joined twin offspring of Desire. I Want and I Need. Insatiable, omnivorous and never resting they devour, demand and dictate.

I say all that because I need to you to know that I am no angel. My writing for you today is by no means some act of altruistic benevolence. Not in the purist sense at least which, if the above is to be believed, never truly happens anyway.

Every good story deserves a beginning and most good story tellers will admit that that is rarely where any good story actually starts. With that in mind I will attempt to be as forthright with you as possible and cut straight to the wick.

I love her.