أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ
your heartbeats not quite so far, sometimes it seems, from nearness to my eardrums where their oscillations carry inward simply streaming, perhaps the ripple of a lake down into a much-smaller creek, into the compartment devised for beloved sought once again to meet.
sometimes that box, that cage, can remain closed and nothing leaks out to the forefront of conception, but then..it might rain, or leaves blow in certain directions, swirling as their world topsy-turvy turns, and your absence i recall as a hidden knife suitable for vagabonds, thrust at me from unknown angles, and it cuts again, sometimes deep and at others slicing merely the surfaces of skin, but that is as it aught to be...the one embedded within should at some moments be released, even if by moments not quite comprehensible to strangers.
~
wonder if she thinks i still enjoy missing, wishing to give me further chances to indulge some agonies antagonizing, hah, it would be amusing...were silence not its own kind of blade, wrapping up within the pain of absence, accented by the beauty of serrations.
how does she fare? what are her pains and sorrows, joys and wonders about tomorrow? do those near her treat her justly, or are past follies in choosing simply in the present repeated? all questions absent answers, i'll dart them into the wind, perhaps they'll reach the eyes for which they're intended, and arc down into her soul, give her cause for reflection (and perhaps, for the love of God, answers to these questions! iA).
~
one of the coolest nickname ever conceived for a beacon, Farhaven, like the heroine of a tale i might have read, a beacon-yet-not-made, unaware of that type of shining, life carrying onward, hopeful of your laughter and its finding.
~
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