I. Quality

[gunwithoutmusic]

silence rang out on the day
that we should have spoken
but we thought it would be better
than trying to un-ring the bell

     where in the world are you taking me? i asked, breathless. you didn't respond; you like to keep me guessing. or at least that's how it seems from my perspective while i wonder how it seems from yours. when we reached the pinnacle, i found myself too awestruck to question anymore. the world opened up, all greens and browns and blues, and i was there with you. the silence embraced me, a warm blanket that was comfortable to the point of suffocation.
     i broke it, as i am wont to do, with a joke about the view, with a smile and a wink in your direction. as if i could not let myself be comfortable there, even for a moment.

and why should i be comfortable
when we are what we are and
when we're doing what we're doing
why shouldn't i be afraid of

     i never did find out exactly when it was that you fell in love with me, if you did, since i never found that out, either. you told me a few times, but i guess i had a hard time believing it. it doesn't really make sense, after all, this thing between us. but the pull you have over me—it's incredible. i think i do that to you, too, but i just think. too much thinking without any knowing.
     we moved away from the peak, our feet crunching against old leaves that lazily fell to the ground in colder months, their trees shaking them off with the grace of a wet dog, renewing themselves. it feels different from the hair that falls to the bathroom floor when i shave my head, but i can't pinpoint why. maybe if i could, i would find that renewal. as it stood, i just followed you along the path you were making.

what are we becoming as we
slink silently to the shore
plant our feet in the water
and will ourselves to grow

     at its apex, i fell for you, and at its nadir, i second-guessed. i let myself embrace the silence between us, depressed the need to fill it up with words. i reflected myself in the water and saw you there, a distorted image that was almost wrong, but not wrong enough to give me the pause i needed. just wrong enough to put a question in my mind, words that my mouth would never form.
     it wasn't the first time we met, and it wasn't the last, but it sticks in my mind like used chewing gum clings to old carpet fibers. and it stays there as my thoughts race, trampling it bit by bit until it is a stain, an unremovable bit of miscellany like so many others. some days, i should very much like to cut that square from my mind and replace it with a fresh piece, ignoring the incongruity; it would fade in time to match the rest.

we are alike in so many ways
i am drawn to the similarities
and fascinated by the differences
you said we make a good team

     when you asked me to run away with you, to put aside everything else that i had worked for, to start a new life with you in another place, i didn't have to think. i had been, instead, waiting for you to ask. the ease with which i shed my skin came as a shock to me, but i could never tell you no when your thoughts met mine. maybe i should have. maybe where in the world are you taking me should have fallen from my lips like it did on the mountain.
     but I fear that all i've ever wanted was quality time with you.

Comments

[bleodswean]

A very complicated emotional piece of writing. I enjoyed the lapping / overlapping of poetry and prose.

[erulissedances]

I found your style very interesting. I went back and deconstructed it - reading the verses first, then the prose. It works both ways, as I thought it would, and either way it's strong. That's talent!

- Erulisse (one L)

[halfshellvenus]

This is beautiful, and yet full of ache and so many, many questions. I like the style of it, the alternation, the prose that was also poetic and sometimes dreamlike.

I especially liked the line-ending of why shouldn't I be afraid of (so much more alive with just the addition of that "of"), and then the evocativeness of this whole stanza:

what are we becoming as we
slink silently to the shore
plant our feet in the water
and will ourselves to grow

[adoptedwriter]

I also like the blend of poetry and prose. Well done!

[fausts_dream]

When I read your stuff I find myself waiting for the next breathtaking turn of phrase.

I never seem to have to wait too long

[muchtooarrogant]

I liked the dual journeys expressed by your character here, walking along a path, and their evolving relationship.

Dan

[krispykritter]

Interesting style. I had to slow my screen reader down to appreciate your style. Smile. This was beautiful and melancholy.

[drippedonpaper]

It's funny how this happens: "it doesn't really make sense, after all, this thing between us. but the pull you have over me—it's incredible."

and if (or when) things fall apart, even realizing in a psychological way that we are drawn to try to fix our pasts through others, even knowing that perhaps we are so attracted to fix or change what cannot be worked out with someone else...even understanding that doesn't take away the incredible memory of the draw, the pull.

It rings so true there's probably at least aspects of truth, but I find myself hoping it's fiction.

Because it ends with...a longing instead of fulfillment.

Very well done. Brought tears to my eyes.

[legalpad819]

Bittersweet and beautiful. Thank you for sharing this.

[roina_arwen]

I love how lyrical this is.

[murielle]

"...at its nadir, i second-guessed..."

This is me all over. Someone told they rarely second-guessed a decision they'd made. I can't even imagine that.

Your words, S, are so beautiful. Often so far beyond me. I focus small and reach to grow.

❤❤

[marjorica]

Ay me! This is wonderfully evocative.

[rayaso]

What a wonderful use of language! It was very evocative and bittersweet.