Your Histories (day 2286)

I can only hold my breath
As waves of anxiety pass through me
Butterflies emanate so powerfully
From my being
Sunshine becomes hard to see
I cannot count to ten or listen
I cannot comprehend noises
Conversation becomes lost
In an inaudible sea of thought
That has found me here
Floating around your island
Out beyond the breakers in the sea;
A picture on the wall
That leaves me awe-struck
Star struck, but not star-struck,
Star struck that makes me remember
Your kindness that laughed at me
Your eyes that watched with me
Your silence that became excited with me
And your being that is
A remarkable being
A being that should rest upon silk robes
Effortlessly moving through a sea of pillows
That supports your every wish
With decadence and consideration
And space that gives you time
To remember the histories
That you have always been,
And love that has never been forgotten
In a book written long ago
Bound with two ribbons:
One of forest green,
The other of gray.

A Picture of Enjoyment (day 563)

Sounds of the night circle ’round and around like the flowering budgies that flap on through the night.

I await on the mantle, a picture of enjoyment.

Legs curve and the back bends forward, this is the pose of an elegant dancer. She walks and she hustles and she whispers in madness. She whispers secrets only lovers can handle.

Too late, I whisper, hunching my back and looking deep into the ceiling with elated joy. A fool only knows the answer after the call has been made.

Hope always exists, up here on the mantle. So much excitement and far to little action; the dancers they taunt me, the singers they enchant me.

I await on the mantle, as a picture of enjoyment.