"Sometimes when I speak to him, Cid looks very hard and straight into my face as if in search of something (a city on a map?) like someone who has tumbled off a star. But he is not the one who feels alien - ever, I think. He lives in a small country of hope, which is his heart. Like Sokrates he fails to understand why travel should be such a challenge to the muscles of the heart, for other people. Around every bend of the road is a city of gold, isn't it?
I am the kind of person who thinks no, probably not. And we walk, side by side, in different countries."
(excerpt from "Plainwater" by Anne Carson)
but with you. when i met you and we talked, you sometimes surprised me with words i had buried inside; i knew we weren't that distant. some people are foreign to me, but you, you are native. we come from the same country, in fact i know the state and i'm not surprised the further i look into your soul that your city is where i call home. and the city is large but somehow we managed to meet and then part. do you know how it feels to be alone in your soul? i do now even more.
"what is it that keeps us from drowning in moments that rise and cover the heart?"
and i have to find you. i have to tell you how i am lost and how i think you hold the key, a clue, something that could make me found. in the moments we shared i felt a closeness, a safety that i'm still not sure i can do without.
your eyelids, curtains to reveal your eyes. your eyes, windows to your soul. your soul, a room that embodies your essence. your essence, something that i want to hold.
and i have to find you. some people are foreign to me but you are familiar. i walk the streets, follow the signs, hop on a train, i don't want to stop. sadness finds me eventually and i feel even more empty inside. this isn't getting me closer, this is getting me far.
i have to listen to my heart. i have to close my eyes and let it guide me to where you are. so i go to where i started and it is there that i find i didn't have to look very far. something pulls me to this beautiful house, it looks completely unfamiliar but it feels like home. i turn the knob, it's open, it was never locked. and i search the rooms and find no one but i sense a presence, a spirit. as always, the last place you look is where you find what you have lost. the bedroom. you have bedroom eyes.
every step i take towards this room fills me up with you and i feel lighter, i feel full. will i find you there waiting for me? or is it me who is waiting for you? and does it really matter who is waiting, i think it's just important that we meet.
i want to take your hand
trace the wave of your hand
walk side by side with you
in our country
for the rest of our life.
butterflies in my stomach. i open the door. this is the moment i have waited for. happiness overwhelms me. i don't feel lost anymore. i found you. i found you lying in the comfort of our bed. a bed made of our memories, of our future, of our words, of our souls. of a love with so many colors decorating its spirit and so many colors waiting to grow and explode into the sky.
spread your wings and fly butterfly.
counts not months,
but in moments and
has time enough."