#*my prose

Would that I could speak to him as easily as I write, and sing to him of my dreams. But I cannot, and let my unspoken vows be drowned in the molten gold he weaves into light.

Nay, he knows of nothing but the joy of creation, he speaks only in the language of heartrending beauty. His words fill my mind with silver-limned images of artifice and kindness, he paints a portrait of a world filled with a lushness of fathered wonder, a world he can already see with his waking eyes…oh, would that he could also see me. Would that he knew the calling of my heart and draw close to me, close enough so I could catch the scent of the forge still lingering upon his skin, the very autograph of his brilliance.

Tell him not of my longing. Let the gentle shimmer of the jewels he fashions seal my secret in light and sink it into their faceted depths, eternal and changeless.

I know he feels nothing but the heady rush of genesis as delights and marvels spring from beneath his fingertips. His tender touch is only for the coolness of metal awaiting the fire of forming, blossoms of potential. The strength of his arms and the deftness of his hands stay devoted to coaxing a bejewelled possibility from the coolness of stone. The soft glow of his thoughtful gaze only mirrors his wisdom and patience, his smile his passion. If only once, I alone could be graced by that smile. Would that he would hold me, so I may whisper the promises that only the stars and my own tears ever hear to him. If only he could take those sighs and encase them in silver filigree more delicate than starlight upon saltwater, more precious than mithril itself.

But no. I will not burden him with my yearning. I shall let the sparkle of the gems hide my tears deep within their carved hearts, let my sighs fade into the margins of his sketches of maybes, where they cannot trouble him.

My love refuses to acknowledge the closing of the doors of your life upon these shores. My heart sees not your ending. It never will.

I will speak no farewells, and while I may weep, I will shed no tears over the distance now between our souls; not for the most sundering of all seas, nor for the straightest of all roads. In my memory, you are as alive and as vital as the warmth of the sun, forever remembered in the light of an unpassing spring morn as butterfly flickers of light kissed your cheekbones, your proud brow, your hair spun of secret gold. In my memory, I am never far from that morning, regardless of how far your spirit is from me now. I need brave no winter, for I will never allow frost to settle upon my heart and chill my devotion. My love keeps you within me, undimmed by any shadow, untouched by time's passing, never to know the slightest whisper of decay. Whisper no goodbyes, my unexpected love, for I guard you; my remembrance your forever beyond forever. My love as immortal as you ever will be.

I will not let my heart shatter, for I am not letting you go -- in this heart, you are mine to keep in perfect, light-blessed clarity, ever unfading; thus it will stand as a fortress within memory and time. You are endless within me, your brilliance and fire keeping the small spark of my own hope aflame within my sorrow and longing.

My heart shall never say goodbye, even if my voice whispers of our parting to the stars and begs them to halt my tears. My spirit refuses. My love refuses.