I can close my eyes and remember everything there was that fateful night. The light that bathed and swathed me; the dim sounds that unfurled, in a staccato of emotions, to a crescendo that still rings in my ears if I will them so; the words, spoken and unspoken - they are as a gauze of the past that persists to the present, a ghost granted flesh and blood at my behest. I remember the tears, shed and unshed, but I will not speak of them. They were serene, that much I shall say.
We danced, to love and breathed life into a fairy tale. We traced swirls and fair patterns across the floor. We spoke words. We shared things. We shared our souls. Peace was absolute a theme in the dizzying delights that we were, that we were in. Our warped lives are bound by our choices weft, this is how we forge our existence in the Tapestry of being. There are some things we cannot change, some things beyond our wills.
I remember that fateful night, and the others before that, where the ghosts of sloth made manifest as we wove our dance. In a moment, you raised my arms and I made ready to spin, which I did. I stumbled soon after, I almost fell. I looked around and you weren't there. You were at the far bank of the hall, and I understood.What came next was a conversation I shall not tell. It is not the focus of this tale. It was not vile, it was serene - that much can be said.
I danced pirouettes by my lonesome for a time, dizzying myself and enjoying the brief spell. Strangers came, but not wholly, and for a time smiles are exchanged and alien rhythms are in harmony, but what we wove was a farce, a passing whim that easily frayed.
I cannot now say for certain if I am at peace, or if I am happy, or if I yearn for you so, or perhaps a gray amalgam of everything. Now we meet under the same hall upon the same floor and emotions well up from the springs of my heart. You hold my gaze, and I, yours, and I fall all over again.
It's strange, or is it, how your presence can still make my realities reel.
Jon Mclaughlin - So Close