When the time becomes four parallel lines, I make a point to close my eyes and make a wish. It may be nothing more than a hopeless pagan ritual, but the release of all my irrational yearnings is nothing short of liberating. Last evening, as I drove under the foggy November sky, I saw the clock turn into dual elevens and I swiftly wished for the moon. It had looked perfectly luminescent from where I sat, a beacon of light in the starless void. As I drifted off to sleep later in the night, either by fate or the hand of God, I dreamt that my futile wish had come true.
I was sitting on the rooftop with braided hair and an ivory nightdress when the unexpected happened. Two angels, equal in both beauty and reverence, flew in from space with my grand present folded into their wings. Please tell us, they whispered in unison. What will you do with our friend, the moon, now that she is yours to keep? I thought about this for some time as they looked on. Well, I began. I suppose it would be awfully selfish to keep such a sacred gift to myself.
So I ordered them to cut the moon in two and I gave a half to you. A token for you to remember me by, I wrote in cursive scrawl on the accompanying card. The angels were so moved by my romantic little notion that they decided to take the gesture even further. They murmured an enchantment over my newly acquired satellite in hushed tones, and then turned to me in explanation when they were finished.
Whenever you speak softly into your piece of moon, they told me. He will hear it.
And the same for him? I asked.
The same for him.
I wept and kissed the feet of the two celestial messengers. They had cast a spell so tender that I was sure the constellations themselves were stirred by it. Inside, I too leapt for joy at the thought of communing with you through our lunar halves. How would it be possible for you not to love me now that I offered such a virtuous union?
In my waking life, do not be surprised if you catch me glancing up wistfully towards the moon. I’m simply mourning the departure of a dream so heavenly that it couldn’t last in the mind of one so tragically bound to earth.
I was sitting on the rooftop with braided hair and an ivory nightdress when the unexpected happened. Two angels, equal in both beauty and reverence, flew in from space with my grand present folded into their wings. Please tell us, they whispered in unison. What will you do with our friend, the moon, now that she is yours to keep? I thought about this for some time as they looked on. Well, I began. I suppose it would be awfully selfish to keep such a sacred gift to myself.
So I ordered them to cut the moon in two and I gave a half to you. A token for you to remember me by, I wrote in cursive scrawl on the accompanying card. The angels were so moved by my romantic little notion that they decided to take the gesture even further. They murmured an enchantment over my newly acquired satellite in hushed tones, and then turned to me in explanation when they were finished.
Whenever you speak softly into your piece of moon, they told me. He will hear it.
And the same for him? I asked.
The same for him.
I wept and kissed the feet of the two celestial messengers. They had cast a spell so tender that I was sure the constellations themselves were stirred by it. Inside, I too leapt for joy at the thought of communing with you through our lunar halves. How would it be possible for you not to love me now that I offered such a virtuous union?
In my waking life, do not be surprised if you catch me glancing up wistfully towards the moon. I’m simply mourning the departure of a dream so heavenly that it couldn’t last in the mind of one so tragically bound to earth.
1 comment:
this is hauntingly beautiful.. i really like it.
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