would you believe me if I told you a sweet story of apocalypse?
would you comprehend that I manifested the end of days with a look of love?
I found the mirror to my soul, and the Four Horsemen came knocking at the Western Door.
My anxiety crept through me; an anticipation I upheld to the jurisdiction of politics and the quote-on-quote “correct” way of making an example out of myself.
(Those ideologies crumbled with the old ways of the World in under 24 hours).
You killed my ego in the span of seconds.
I held your hand and introduced myself as Destiny. You took my name in with adoration, and moved along your merry way. With a soft smile under your facial hair... it was the most endearing moment I have ever shared with my own name.
You poked and prodded for my contact information. I asked you for a napkin.
Found my designated Sharpie, and wrote my name and number.
Nothing more, and nothing less.
You glanced at the white flag, and surrendered to it with your breath:
You told me you knew the minute you looked into my eyes. You liked how I held your gaze, and intrigued momentous memories within your subconscious. You, “Just had to get to know this woman.”
You were on the back of my mind all day as I drove out to the country. A slight sense of anticipation, but nothing as consuming as the feelings I hold now.
You rang from a distant telephone line, and I picked up knowing damn well it was you. With a mouth full of food, I couldn’t help but laugh at my own terrible manners. I have never seen my Mother and Sister look at me with such utter curiosity.
Prying and prodding, by the instant approval of my Mother, I walked along the grounds of my Grandmother’s property sharing brief information. The weather was simultaneously cool and convincing. (I would give anything to go back to that moment). As my heart flew through my chest:
“This must be something”.
You used to text me while I was working. When there was still work to be had. You made me feel special from a distance.
It was on that Sunday, I flew to the city in my sleek, black dress. Curved to the depiction of my body in real time. A pair of fishnet stockings to seal the deal. My Mother’s vintage, purple bra holding the cage of my soul to my chest. Hair washed and legs silked.
I thought I was only going to take care of my physical self. It was here all points of the spirit were punctured. Earth, Wind, Fire, Water. The minute you walked out of the front door and into my car. I felt like I had the power to do anything in the world. When you confidently told me your full name and asked of mine, we both felt the synergy of our ancestors speaking through us. Powerful names, together at last.
You speak in stories that spill out like grains of rice all over a kitchen floor. Your body is rooted and firm, like an ancient elm one comes across in a forest clearing. Hair like an eagle, and a gap between your teeth. Your witty tongue sends me into fits of laughter as if I am invoking Thalia herself.
You have exposed brick walls and white curtains. Green plants that are well taken care of, and graphic novels that are arranged neatly next to an old-timey stereo. A large television; you play Xbox. You hang up your clothes in an orderly manner, and line your shoes up in a similar fashion. Accordingy, with your charming obsessive compulsivity.
You possess many beautiful boxes filled with your private belongings.
And now, in your possession, a pair of my earrings. The gold roses that only cost me $5. Would you like to keep them forever? Would you like them for yourself? Make an alter, light a candle, and shape shift from the Fool into the Devil by way of their molten lava.
I love the way you growl when you make love to me. As if you are finally alive. Awakened. You told me I felt like drugs to you. You told me I made you dizzy. You told me I was pretty. And that my hair was like a jungle. You insisted my morning breath would keep you away from me. That you were a man of the night. I repeated a soul mate’s stream of conscious into your ear, ”You know, saying that you’re a night owl is extremely redundant”.
You absolutely, couldn’t positively, agree more.
To the point that you agreed to the late morning sun. You followed through with such promise, speaking the secrets of the Gods to the heavenly space between my legs.
You remind me of all the good moments and qualities I have had with anyone I have ever loved. Your face shape shifts, and you answer questions that I have held in my head for all these cycled eternities.
At 16, I had my tarot cards read for the first time. I was told I have an old soul. That this is my 3rd round of life in the Universe we call Home.
I know this rings true when I look at you, for your name is something other than what we call you these days. A title I cannot put my tongue upon. You are ancient to me in the same way that you are a breath of fresh air. I already know you deeply.
How my pulse quickened 10 seconds before you ever planned to kiss me in the first place...I’ll never understand.
In the kitchen, as I leaned against the stove top. A Twin Flame cocktail in hand; the best I have ever made. Your inspiration drew your lips to mine like wildfire. I was a hedge animal waiting in the brush. You swept me away as Aretha sang and sang. We swayed as you sent me against the wall. My legs wrapped around you. Wanting to merge into one, like the way we were created; the way in which we were intended to be. I could not catch my breath, and when I did, I just wanted to breathe you in all over again. Like the polar magnets of the Earth, keeping the World afloat.
Is this why you stay away?
And in my 3-D disbelief of what I found, I chased you to no eternity.
However, I am transforming everyday, and a lot of it has to do with you in this new space I call life. You are me. And I am of you. My heart filled to the brim with gratitude.
I am crying tears of comprehension because it hurts to finally heal.
I have been known to rip my soul into so many different directions. With my puppy dog eyes, I am trying to uncover the bones I have laid buried across the lawn. 6 feet under.
Oh, how I love thee. Oh, how I love me.
Surrender to the April Fool.
