Monday, 25 June 2012

the door in my heart opened on it's hinges

overlooking the hill where the dead lie with their empty bodies and bones we sit dappled in sunlight beneath a canopy of green. our swollen hearts beat and burst and break. and mostly in that order. i love you quietly and so hard. behind us the city spreads eastwards, obese and evergrowing; all trees and rooftops and spires made all the more beautiful bathed in the sublime glow of the lowering sun. if i could give to you anything it would be a shaped ring of light to circle your heart - as though i were a god and able to fashion such things. i believe though there are heroes inside each of us. great, noble hearted wonders waiting for our moment to shine, moments that, in fact, occur daily in the thousand acts of kindness we grace upon each other. i am forever moved by the enormity of the so-called little things, of the beauty in the 'ordinary'. one day i will compose the most glorious love letter to the world. the world that gave birth to me, that romances me, nourishes me, intoxicates and accepts me. it does not need to understand my tendency towards occassional melancholia, because i dont either. the trick is to be fluid. to flow with it and through it, to find the poetry in the dark. but the dark's not here. not today. this is the kind of day to paint with words, to keep, to say thank you for. and mean it.

"..the door in my heart
opened on it's hinges.." ~ antonio machado

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