I dreamt of her spires last night, the gleaming beauty masking the terror and oppression housed within. A city, now forgotten, swallowed by hungry jungle eager to devour the cruel Titan who had ruled with hateful heart. Spires dressed in gold ripped from the earths womb by fear filled citizens bent on completion lest the masters wroth be stirred. Where slave market once stood, jaguar pads softly scenting the air in search of mate. The earth rumbled her warnings shaking the mine to prohibit his incessant gluttony. But he took no heed, instead executing all survivors as guilty of the ruin. Life was cheap and the loss of his entertainment. The execution square, built of pain and fear, now houses a bower of strange dark orchids. Such a terrifying man, all cowered beneath his ruthlessness, but pestilence did not; disease struck him and all with evil hearts within the city. The survivors fled the cursed ground taking with them their blessed lives as they sought holier ground. The cities name lost in history as the minds of those that lived erased terrible memory of the beast that had ruled them; building a rotten empire from the blood of their sacrifice. Stars, once blackened by acrid smoke of burning dead flesh, now bright and clear for the ghosts of this place to gaze on and sigh softly as peace is restored to their hearts. His grand hall now home to families of cheerful monkeys, they frolic, impervious to the fading painted walls depicting his dark deeds, ignorant of the wealth in gems pouring from his rotting coffers. Spires of gold patterned with the lace of vines, gradually breaking apart this city of pain, coveted gold falling back to the earth whence it came.
I am in torment to my own desire. My musty scent illustrates my ripe need. Body sensitive to flicker of breeze, friction of clothing. My wicked Imagination has drawn me to a tightly coiled moment where I throb incessant with need. Firm, pliant and moist with heat I cannot sit still. Forcefully I slow my breathing allowing absorption in my daydream, ah yes, there it is the place I imagine him. The rich green forest, sounds of wildlife and the hush of nature after rain seeps into my pores. I breathe it in feeling healing and magic stir in my soul. Opening my eyes I see him, he appears to be arriving as if to meet me. I breathe a prayer of gratitude then focus my full attention on him. Masculine strength emanates from him, tempered with a deep and thoughtful mind; fierce loyalty burns within him wrapped up in a physical package that gives me butterflies. He has seen me, his thoughtful eyes taking in the whole of me, I let my soul shine it is safe here with him, I know it is. His eyes brighten and a playful smile tickles his lips as he moves towards me. He stops a good step away leaving a chaste gap between us, holding my eyes he speaks, “This is some imagination you have,” reaching for my hand he lifts it and gently kisses the back of my hand, “well met, my lady of the woods.” My hand tingles where his lips have scorched their imprint. He does not release my hand but maintains it in his hand gently stroking my palm taking my breath away and stirring more heat within me. “I told you I would wander here from time to time.” He smiles, “Then let us wander and speak of all the things we have been wanting too.” We walk hand in hand comfortable, the lilt of his voice soothing and engaging. I feel closer to home than I have in years, almost longer than I can recall. My desire retreats to a bearable level as we talk and talk. After much time has passed we stop walking he turns me toward him his eyes burn into mine, his hand moves my hair behind my ear, he pulls me to him, I cannot breathe for the passion within me as he lowers his lips to mine. Fire and ice assault my senses I reach for him before I fall. The lush magic of the forest hushes around our searing heat. The kiss of those who remember the time before time silences the world with their reunion. Harmony restored I sadly feel the pull to my own place, my daydream gone I can still taste him on my lips.
Words by errant satiety image from Deviantart taken near Laage Vuursche in the Netherlands.
I woke with the strangest feeling that there was someone at the door, a visitor of some kind. Light had not yet come to the windows; the cat was curled peacefully next to me. Rubbing my eyes I checked the time, 3am. Rising I wrapped my black silk nightgown over my matching nightdress. My warm bare feet touched the cool wooden floorboards and I padded softly out of my bedroom and down the hallway. A flickering glow registered in my vision it was emanating from the front room, I wondered briefly if the television was left on. As I get closer though I see that there is a human shaped glow, flickering as a candle in the breeze, just inside the front doorway. I stopped short, I must be dreaming. Transfixed I stand only a few feet away observing.
It is a man. His face comes into focus then fades to white noise. Strangely, I am not afraid only curious. I step closer. As I reach with trembling fingers to touch the apparition forming before me I shiver, such a handsome face, did I know him from somewhere? His form becomes more substantial as I reach for it. As my fingertips make contact I gasp he is warm, alive, and real. Fear grips me as my rational mind decides this is not a dream. I cannot retrieve my hand I find I do not want to and his eyes made of light and shadow are pleading with me. His mouth forms words that I cannot hear.
My heart wrenches in my chest, I can see you, touch you why can I not hear your words? “Why have you come here?” His eyes so sad but filled with love reach deeply into me. Then the heat in my hand is gone as his light flickers and snuffs out leaving only shadow. My heart beat thunderously in my chest. I want to throw open the door and chase him but I know he is not there. I know that he has gone from this world. Slowly I drop my arm closing my eyes to sear the memory of his face in my mind. The cat is suddenly at my feet mewling quietly, I drop to pat her and allow her to lead me back to bed.
Groggily I drag myself through my work day. Running late for most of it I dive into a salad bar I have never been to find something nutritious for lunch. There are few tables and only one seat left at a table for two. I make my way over, preparing to ask if the seat is free. As I get closer the man looks up at me I freeze, the same man, my apparition in full colour his bright blue eyes beam at me his friendly smile open and inviting. “This seat is free if you like?” I sit knowing that last night you had come to warn me or bid me farewell and now here you were arriving in my life. I could chose to walk away, instead I meet your handsome glowing eyes and return your smile knowing already that my cat is going to like you.
“I believe this. When we meet those we fall in love with, there is an aspect of our spirit that is historian, a bit of a pedant who reminisces or remembers a meeting when the other has passed by innocently…but all parts of the body must be ready for the other, all atoms must jump in one direction for desire to occur.”
– Michael Ondaatje, ‘The English Patient’.
I bathed in moonlight and scented myself in the night. I dressed ritually, as if for a wedding or some other rite of passage. Finally, soothed, prepared, cloaked to absorb some of my unseemly iridescence, I enter the scene. I know this is the right place and moment. My glance takes in the room mentally checking my celestial clock… right on time. I see him glance up and smell the air. I pass through the room lyrically dancing between the press of swaying intoxicated bodies, smiling knowingly and with warning at the men attempting to intercept my path. They fall away hearts pounding as they watch me move beyond them. You feel my approach turning as I confidently pause. We have not yet entered each others proximity but you know. Your hazel yellow eyes widen and your cloak deepens as you extend a hand. I meet your gaze with my impossible blue eyes as I take your hand I let my cloak fall before you. Lifetimes of faces dance between us as you devilishly smile. Yes you remember me; I have found you once again. My hair still echoes my movement, such little real time has passed. Laughing deeply you take in my smile and offer me a drink. More devil than human you hope to diminish my angelic charm. We have danced this night a thousand times, a thousand different ways, perhaps tonight we might get it right? With a gleam in my eye I reply, “I’ll have an Angel’s Delight.”