A Fog of Gossamer Mind

A Fog of Gossamer Mind

Fitful and shallow, constant only in agony, and spoiled in all its perfection; the singular denial. It’s too much; I can’t reach it. I fall.

I sit here, this place I feel I should know, this place I should know, but don’t. This man I should be conversing with only crouches with his back to me. I stand, and she walks in, not from the door, but rather the next room. She walks up, and as she takes my hand, he turns finally to face me. His eyes, those piercing irises, lock with mine, and he simply nods. My head swims as she leads me across the room, to the couch against the wall, and lays me down. Now it’s her eyes that I notice, of the deepest green surrounding pools of ebony fire, surveying me so carefully as she straddles me.

-…your true name…-

Now he moves again, removing an object from his pocket and placing it in her hand, then leaving through that same door that she did not appear in. She tucks it away, leans down, and kisses me. The sensation sets my mind awash all over again, and I would be happy to die from the sheer passion she so furiously pours into me with those delicate lips.

She pulls away, and through my soul her voice reverberates as she speaks. “This day, a day so long ago, the day of epiphany. A day of revolutions and realizations, of rise and fall, and for you, a day of birth. You have years behind you, and years ahead, but all we have is now. This moment takes me, as by a breath from my mouth you are completed and freed.”

Then in her hands, I see what he gave to her. She holds it out and fastens it around my shoulders - a necklace. A pendant of a small black heart, laden with cracks and breaks, but still intact. One on the outside to match the one within, then. Some small part of me chuckles at the irony of that idea.

Again she leans forward, and again we kiss just as passionately as before. I feel a fingernail press into the skin on my chest as she releases herself completely, though I do not flinch. This kiss is so powerful that I would not dare break it. As one we move, each completely a part of the other, and nothing has ever felt so right. She pulls away and sits upright once more, and then, sadly, she is gone.

I bolt awake, breath heavy and mind racing, clutching at my heart to make certain it is still there. Cold sweat runs down my face. I am fine, and with any luck, I can finally, truly rest this evening. But I can’t help myself. As I lay down again, pulling the blankets across my body, I run my hands over that small scar on my chest, and I reach out once again…