tales of the Soul and its Sun
this sphere in me
gravitates to yours without thinking
(just feelings, trembling, and vibrating to the movements
of your molecules)
still sensing each thread of your fabric
between my fingers
each tilted beam of light that has marked my skin
with your touch,
searching for air
in the vastness of this cosmos
that lacks of oxygen,
these lungs filter with stars instead of crimson
these veins are filled
with fragmented daisies and poppy petals
all dancing in my system
on paved yellow bricked walls
that lead to the Sun
I have always yearned for
and that captivated my dreams for so long,
in your presence I find air
that doesn't just fill my lungs
I find air that reaches to the deepest corners
of my being
and fills it with relief
with new smells, and bright new colors
this sphere in me
gravitates to yours without thinking, without knowing
it calls you, it reaches out
knowing that it will not rest
until our spheres come once again as one
I heard of a wanderer once that found her way back home
I had someone once that was made of cosmic dust
rebelious, full of life
always falling down from a star
someone both strong and fragile ( but aren't we all like that? )
and the stars she would fall down from
were always constructed
of sharp-cut edges
( they sparkled beautifully
reflected in the moon but they caused wounds, they caused red tears
in between the fabric of her heart )
I felt someone once that was made of cosmic dust
they bled with moondrops
sugar and traumas held too tight,
they kept their innocence
even when the world
kept crushing their shell, their armour
I met someone once that
was made of cosmic dust,
of glitter and the biggest of hearts
a someone I tried to glue back together
after each of their falls
I took a needle and countless moon threads
to mend what was damaged
I helped, I soothed
but she was never mine to fix,
and after light years from that time
I have found that what needed
to be mended
was only for her to heal
I knew someone once
that was made of cosmic dust
and now they are a new born planet
that learned how to breathe
in their own beautiful cosmic depths
and as painful as it was
you becoming a planet on your own
without my help, without my moonlit soul
gave me the power to become a planet of my own
a cosmic dust that found her own home
a melody just for her
when you look at me
the tenderness of your stare
brings warmth to my wounds,
my fractured scars
it wraps them around in a blanket
( and they have been cold
for so long, you see )
you heal pieces of past traumas
without even knowing it, my dearest
the ones that have been with me
for years ( decades? yes, perhaps )
and you do it
just by the love that pulsates
out of that universe
that sometimes you let me see
out of those deep brown, amber hues
there is silence left in your temporary absence
a silence that roars in me
without making even a sound
but I hear it all around me
pressing at my walls
banging at my doors
shouting in whispers
murmuring in earthquakes,
a power field that rings only between my cells
my atoms
between the fibers of my skin
a beat of drums around me
heated, vibrated air
all caused by a red string
entangling both of our souls
I am forever missing
the warmth of your body, the feel of your lips
those arms wrapped around me
holding our home,
but I am now reminded
how it is to last without your voice
the look of your eyes
how it is to have only shreds of your presence,
just glimpses of you
I await you back, my dear
I left a light for you
_ _ _ _ _
and though I might sound melodramatic at times
a real poet
a heart on a careless sleeve,
a tidal wave crushing against the countless shores
of emotions and feels
and yet,
every word is true
every feeling
each sigh
every pulsating heartbeat that speaks of you
even through the struggles, and darkness - there is light in my veins
I know that sometimes my face speaks of discomfort, and unease, that what you see seems discontent.
And it is.
It is extremely discontent in a short moment of time that will pass.
It's a repeated reaction triggered by all the struggles that life has put me through. But this struggle is an aftershock of all the past lives that still echo sometimes in the tissue. It's a vibration, a ripple on the face of water that at times still causes circles to appear. Something that is not responsible for the present but affects me because of the past.
To be honest I have never felt more happier, more alive, more settled into my bones - with a grounded soul that rests in the home it never truly knew it had. It is something so deeply beyond measure that I can never truly name.
It bursts through my seams, covering me with light when the darkness floats out of me.
My heart is filled with joy, my soul breathing in and out like it has never before, finally free to feel all that it was meant to feel. I am happy and filled with so many feelings and emotions that I can't always contain.
They leak out of me,
each little drop deepening the solid rocks that used to contain my prison.
I cannot say how much your touch means to me, or how deeply I feel each of your caresses, even the slightest one, even the most subtle.
I sink into you completely, I MERGE into a universe that fits so well
and that I still struggle to give a name, to give an explanation.
My love, I have found a home in you, and because of that I am most vulnerable with you, and around you - no matter if your presence is caused by the barely few inches you were from me for the past few days - or oceans apart.
I wish I could tell you how my skin feels against yours, how my body and mind rests, how my bones sigh in relief whenever you touch me - but somehow I cannot find words for it - how could I if there aren't enough of them to fill in all the gaps
that make the picture of us
this mosaic of light and dark, of the struggles and the victories,
of the traumas that we had to deal with and the good that we brought by existing
in each other's lives,
of the most beautiful multicolored stained glass that comes to life when you are near - physically or in the energy that travels to my heart and yours - the energy that bursts
out so eagerly out of us
when our souls talk when they whisper to each other.
I am happy with you, even in the moments when I feel a little lost with myself,
a bit non-believing in the person that I have evolved into.
But trust me when I say - this heart of mine has never felt so at home as it has since the day we collided - growing in size in ways that far beyond my comprehension.
Every kiss, every touch, every breath, every inhale...
I am finally connected - I am finally home.
I am warm when you are near, melting into the tapestry of our souls
into the map of our bodies - into the lines that make our lips, into each fragment that marks our skin... and when the weight of your body covers me,
when you give in and surrender to me - when you allow me to take you in completely
I feel safer that I have ever felt before - I am safe. I am home
without a single doubt in my being.
spices, honey and you
your soul is stirring darling
between hues
of amber,
bronze, and honey
you are wine,
burgundy tones mixed with love
caramel and chocolate
that tastes so good on the tongue
I reach for that taste
I reach for you
constantly diving past time and place
shifting, twisting, and bending
into a supernova trapped in a fragile flesh
I reach for you past the layers of human
moving to the sides of physical
as if opening my chest
from the inside
too crammed in the golden cage
made by bones
sliding fingers past the ribbed doors
counting twelve to the right
and twelve to the left
feeling my soul erupt
and set itself free
ten thousand lifetimes
too far away from you ( exhale it and swallow )
and ten thousand lifetimes
yet to come
(inhale and feel your heartbeat,
let it stretch its wings)
this home that I feel with you
is eternal
it will never crumble down and waste away
for it does not have walls
it's not built of concrete or wooden beams
it's made of soul threads
and a red string
that's always at the tip of my fingers
always twisting itself around your name
unexpected gifts
the most scary things
are usually the most ordinary
being left behind
is one of my most treasured monsters
- Eleonore
I stand there for a longer while, my body so stiff and tight that it resembles a bizarre granite sculpture, my eyes staring at the setting sun until the sky outside the window turns completely dark, heavy clouds bringing rain that falls down to the hectic, busy streets, while my mind wanders around two unexpected conversations I had. My eyebrows furrow tightly together at the fact that I could still be stunned by the things happening in my life. It seemed I had seen it all, stepping on the shaky grounds of grief and supernatural elements blending so deeply into my existence. And yet the ordinary events tended to still catch me off guard. I think as Charlie's voice still echoes in my head, his gentle stare on me as he shared the news with me just the day before. I have been so occupied with all the craziness that the mundane facts and situations started to acquire a magical ability to blur out from my mind. I gaze at the street below, my eyes following the reckless people who decided to engage the chill of the evening that has become way too eager to earn the Winter title before the calendar could - and groan slightly as my brain replays the conversations I had never planned to have.
With everything going on, I forgot to tell you before. You will be pleased to hear that Mrs. Wilson is doing better, and her doctor officially signed her out yesterday. With her age and physical state, she will still need help getting around, but I also know the daughter already made arrangements for a part-time home nurse who will be checking up on her, assisting her with anything she needs, and making sure she regularly eats and gets stronger.
I remember blinking several times before I could utter any reasonable response, watching his hands gesture with enthusiasm by the cafeteria table as he reported the hospital newsletter to me.
She left?
My question seemed a bit hollow as something tightened in my chest, invisible weights making me sink deeper into the red plastic chair I was sitting on.
She was signed out because she's doing better.
Charlie corrected me - slowly, patiently, and then frowned, hearing the tones in my voice.
I thought you would be happy for her.
I felt bad for my reaction. I felt bad for still having traces of abandoned issues even after all these years; feeling as if once again I was somehow left behind. It didn't make any sense to react like that, but it was stronger than me. I got so used to Clair being around, safely in the same room and the same bed that her sudden absence caused a small gap in my body, locating itself like several sharp splinters between my ribs, and causing me to shift uncomfortably in the chair. Once again, you got attached, silly girl. I sighed and trambled a bit, frustrated, feeling like a spoiled child - a child who was over-sensitive to the world around her in so, so many ways. I swallowed nervously but managed to put myself together, my embarrassment perspiring through my skin like unwanted sweat.
No, I am happy. Trust me, I am.
Your face seems to contradict your words.
I grimaced slightly, hoping he didn't notice.
Charlie, I'm a complicated paradox, no point in looking too deeply into that pit of despair.
Nora.
Just one word and I heard all the questions he had in his head, and it had nothing to do with my random abilities that appeared whenever they wanted to - besides, my questionable "powers" didn't seem to penetrate his serious-minded, thick skull. Not that it actually worked on command at any time, it was more a case of someone wanting to share thoughts or feelings with me. Well, I didn't think anyone really realized that they left an open door for me; it usually just felt like tuning into a piracy radio station when my antenna hit the right wavelength, most times by pure accident. I remember getting lost in all those speculations until being abruptly brought back when I finally noticed Charlie's stare losing its tolerance for the extended silence.
You just caught me off guard. I expected her to still be in her room, in her bed.
He looked at me as if scanning me from top to bottom, his expression turning surprised at first, and then softening a bit.
It's because she didn't say goodbye.
It wasn't really a question, more of a statement, and my face very quickly turned into unflattering shades of crimson. I didn't say anything in response. What was there really to say?
It's okay to miss someone. But the important thing is that she's doing better and that Connie and Clair's granddaughter could take her home.
I nodded, knowing that he was right.
She left you something before they left.
He said unexpectedly and pulled something from the front pocket of his beige scrubs. He put a small, yellowed envelope with my name elegantly handwritten on it on the table between us. I thought of Clair's shaky hands and felt that her daughter must have written it for her. With some hesitation, I reached for the envelope, sliding it slowly towards me, feeling a certain weight to it that I was not expecting. I eyed Charlie suspiciously for a moment and then sighed, opening the little rectangle, feeling it was time to finally act like an adult. My eyes grew wider as I fished out a delicate round shape; it was gold and marked with tiny vines and roses on the outside, while the inside held a miniature sign on its surface that took up the entire space of the ring. I narrowed my eyebrows and brought the ring closer to my face until the words came into focus. "May we always bloom for each other under the Autumn sun.". I stared in disbelief at the object in my hand, as if it could burn a hole in my skin.
Her wedding ring??
Even though my voice was barely a croaked whisper, it seemed to bounce off all the walls as if I had screamed the question. Charlie pursed his lips as if holding back a grin and then pointed to the envelope. I watched him without understanding what he meant, until he made a circle gesture, prompting me to turn it around. I did what I was told and gazed at an old-fashioned, more messy, and slightly uneven handwriting.
"Too wide now for my bony fingers anyhow. It will have better use on your hand."
I played around with the ring, shifting it in every direction and watching as the light cascaded beautifully against its surface, staring at it with growing disbelief.
I don't understand. Why would she give this to me, Charlie? Even if the ring was too loose for her fingers, and for some bizarre reason she no longer felt the need to wear it it was her daughter that should be wearing it. Or her grandaughter, or anyone from the family... anyone but me.
He looked at me as if searching for something.
But it's you that she wanted to gifted to.
I shook my head repeatedly gazing at the ring. And then my stare shifted to my name on the envelope making me even more confused as a realization hit me over the head.
And Conne accepted the idea. They both did.
Slowly, I looked up at Charlie, and he nodded calmly.
It's what they decided, and that's that. "No returns, I'm afraid." Connie's words, not mine.
He smiled at me gently, and I caved in, slouching against the chair and feeling that there was no more reason to fight against the current. I opened my hand carefully and slid it on the second finger of the left hand; it fitted perfectly. I inhaled deeper, knowing exactly and painfully what the golden band represented, and quickly moved it to my other hand.
Why would she do it, though?
My eyes met Charlie, and he shrugged.
Sometimes, there is no reason to dig too deeply, Nora. Just like you said before.
His eyes stayed on me for a while, and then he reached for my hand and took it, his thumb sliding against the ring.
You opened your heart to her, and so did she. And this is her stating it.
I felt emotions well up in me, feelings like slushing waves moving against my stormy core, my gaze fogging up as tears quickly filled my eyes. I took away my hand from his and stared at the golden band as if it held all the answers I was searching for.
You really think so?
I don't think it. I know it. And because they predicted your responses, Connie left their home phone number. Would you like it?
He unblocked his phone and after a few seconds, showed me the number on the screen. I grabbed his phone without asking and quickly stood up.
I need a moment.
He nodded, not surprised, and returned to his meal, leaving me to my own doings. I walked away to the big windows that occupied the entire south wall of the cafeteria and stared outside at nature's grey, ugly weather manifest while the ringing sounds filled my ears - tapping my foot as the waiting time seemed to outstretch mercilessly.
The current Wilson and O'Reley residence. How can I help?
An amused, young voice answered, and even though I never met her personally, I knew exactly who it was.
Ah yes... yes. Is Connie around? I mean, Mrs. O'Reley. Sorry.
May I ask who this is?
Eleonore. She knows me from the hospital.
Oh, so you're the tribute volunteer who brought my grandmother back to the land of living, huh?
It seems so. Yes.
I said in my standard awkward way, a tone that usually appeared when I didn't have an actual idea what my game plan was. Cheers to being hot-headed and irrational.
Well, in that case, she just might be around for you. We give miracle workers extra points in this family.
She stated in a still amused tone, but I could tell there were additional emotions and unconcealed gratitude in her voice. I could almost feel the warm energy flowing from her and into my body. It was both a comforting and a surreal feeling to experience. After a moment of silence on the line, I heard a muffled cacophony of shouted questions and answers that led to a low clicking sound.
Eleonore, dear. It's good to hear from you.
Connie sounded slightly out of breath as if she was rushing through many flights of stairs and it made me wonder how big their house actually was.
Same here.
I might not have time today for pleasantries as I'm busy in the kitchen, so let's cut to the chase.
A smile formed on my lips as I heard her tones, making me realize how she and her daughter were more alike than they cared to admit.
Yes, ma'am.
I answered shortly with a smile, saluting her in my mind.
I'm guessing it's about the ring and possible arguments about where it belongs. No need, it's right where it's supposed to be. On your surprisingly pale yet very pretty hand. End of discussion.
I figured as much. But Connie... are you sure? I mean, it's an important family heirloom. Wouldn't it be better for one of you?
First of all, I already have my father's ring.
She started, and suddenly, out of nowhere a memory of her in the hospital struck me, an image of her playing around with a delicate golden necklace with a round, thick band and a tiny cross filling my mind.
But...
And eventually, it will be my daughter's as well. There, problem solved. Am I making myself clear enough?
Her tone was strict and not to be disputed with. I took a deeper breath and said with a resigned tone, knowing I would be beaten and disarmed whatever argument I would use.
Crystal.
Good, perfection. Now, I'm guessing that the other reason for your call is that you missed my mother, the terrorist. A retired one, but still active in her position.
Yes, that as well.
Well, I'm happy to report that for a woman her age she is doing a bit better every single day. We still have our ups and downs but she is definitely more vocal about her needs and demands. I think it's what keeps her going: her well-equipped military qualities. Thankfully, you were never fooled by her delicate exterior and know that our family has their personal general to our display. Not that we have any choice in the matter.
Connie's gentle chuckles carried to my ears, and I was stunned at how much she had changed since I met her, never before being a witness to such a flow of words from her.
But she's a good general to be around.
I could feel softness fill me up as the words left my mouth, love, and care moving around under my skin and reaching the deepest part of my being. And I knew that Connie heard it too.
She loves you, Eleonore. I do not doubt it.
I could hear her taking a bigger breath, her strong emotions mixing with mine into one combined organism, making me lean my forehead against the cafeteria window for some support, my fingertips leaving prints on the glass, my hand trembling as the cool surface seemed to penetrate my skin right to the bone.
And you have saved her in more ways than one. You saved our family when we needed it the most.
I didn't do much. I just read to her and... listened to the silent grief when she couldn't find words.
I couldn't tell her that I listened to her mother's memories as if they were scenes in a movie. I couldn't tell her that I took her pain in the best way that I could and cradled it until its weight was smaller, and the edges of her sorrow less sharp before I placed it delicately back into her frail arms, repeating it every time I set by her bedside or held her hand. I didn't even realize I was doing it until the ache I felt from her became less heavy, less suffocating. I think that cradling her sorrow and pain helped me deal a bit with my own, healing things in me that I never dared to touch myself. We helped each other in more ways than I could count. And I knew deep down that she brought me strength too. It never ceased to amaze me how two bruised and broken souls could bring light into each other's lives that they lacked on their own.
That was enough. That was enough for her to come back and let us in again after being closed off for so long. We finally got her back.
Connie said in a hushed, slightly muffled voice, and I felt all the unspoken words and feelings that hid underneath, random tiny flashes of visions filling my mind as if delicate butterflies with golden fluttering wings. Memories. Most of them appeared and quickly vanished before I could even fully register them but one lingered long enough for me to hold it gently in my hands. A little girl with fair hair holding her mother's hand as a tall man came back home from work - the soft light of the golden hour surrounding him in amber hues of the setting sun as he walked towards them... I only saw the outlines of his silhouette but I knew him. I knew them all. At that moment waves of love cascaded down my entire body, circulating in my bloodstream and nestled in my chest, filling it with a kind of warmth that every one of us yearns for. I wrapped my free arm around my waist getting lost in the comfort of the memory, and feeling teardrops fall down my cheeks and mark the cool glass.
I know how much you missed her when she closed up on everyone. And I know that for a while it felt like you lost them both. But you didn't.
I said softly, barely stopping myself from speaking the words that filled my heart, blooming like rich luscious vines between my ribs. She loves you, and so does he, I see it in the way he looked at you when he saw your face every time he came back home. That kind of love, it swells up in you, the kind of love that makes you feel safe, so safe that nothing could ever harm you. I felt the words waiting to flow out of me like a rushing river but I held it all in. Almost.
I feel how much Clair loved your father, and there were times when I felt it so strongly that I could nearly touch the love that came from him even though I never had the privilege to meet him in person. But that love... I feel it around you too as if it never left. As if he's still keeping you safe.
A heavy silence fell down between us and instantly I felt angry with myself for not shutting up in time.
I'm sorry, Connie. I shouldn't have said that. Sometimes I just seem to sense more than I should. I can't explain it. Just ignore me and blame it on temporary insanity.
No...
Connie choked out and I shrunk a bit inside of myself feeling all of her emotions ran over me like stampeding wild horses, dust settling everywhere, covering my hair, my clothes, my lungs. Digging me deep into the ground beneath me.
No... no. Thank you. I don't know how you could have possibly known all of that, FELT all of that but... But thank you, Eleonore. Just... thank you.
She broke off and I could hear her cry, sobbing softly into the receiver, holding back the sound of it as much as she could as if not wanting to worry her daughter or anyone else in the house. I felt the blend of pain and relief cascade out of her, washing over the wounds that were left there after her father was gone. It felt almost as if my words brought him closer to her again, as if at that moment he had joined her for one more warm embrace. And I saw it in my mind. I saw her surrendering into that embrace, I watched her come back home after a very long time. And it wasn't until I felt Charlie's gentle and supporting hand on my shoulder and gazed at my own reflection in the window that I realized it wasn't just Connie's sobs on the other side of the line that I was hearing. No, they were mine as well, streaking down my face in a rushing, overwhelmed way. I didn't turn back to him, just watched his eyes in the glass, as he listened patiently to both my cries and Connie's in my ear, letting us both decompress whatever it was that we had to go through. And we did. Eventually, we said our gentle goodbyes, smiling at the incredible relief that we both felt afterward.
I leaned into Charlie and he let myself sink into him until I found my footing again, until I was once again made of one body and one beating heart, and not two.
_ _ _ _ _
Suddenly, something catches my attention, causing me to return to the present. I stir a bit as the noises of the rain mix with new sounds; a faint vibration of a child's soft snores. I look back at Emily's little body bundled up in a few blankets on a big, comfy sofa, a ridiculous amount of stuffed animals guarding her safety as she sleeps; the blue lights of the TV coloring her delicate, relaxed features. Mmm, babysitting duties while her mother is at a local art gallery, showcasing her newest paintings - rich and wild in color, luscious as one was touching and sinking into a rain forest. Hypnotizing in its power. I was never too aware of how to pursue and take in art in the "right way" but her's spoke to me, it always has and that hasn't changed. My admiration for my best friend and her talents has only grown over the years that I've known her.
I smile and sit down on the sofa next to Emily's petit form, my fingers moving gently through her blond, messy locks that remind me so much of Cara's hair, and gaze at her with wonder. If only I was allowed such rest, such peace - I think and yawn loudly, rubbing my eyes and trying to remember when was the last time I slept more than two hours in a row. The answer doesn't come, too difficult to drag out of the exhausted, dark corners of my mind. Slowly, I shift and roll into a ball next to the little warm body that seemed to always have a soothing effect on me. My own dosage of morphine that did not require stealing or lies. Pure, not yet stained energy that promised to hold back the demons, to restrict the monsters from under the bed even if just for now.
___________________________
This story has proven to be a much longer journey than I have ever anticipated but I still love it every step of the way. Even if often the ride is bumpy and frustrating, it is also extremely rewarding and has let me grow alongside with it. Every time one of my characters evolves and heals, so do I, and I am very grateful for that - even when those characters don't listen to me the way I would like, instead just leave me to follow them and write down their many hilarious, deeply moving and often very bizarre conversations.
So for everyone who still sticks around and checks up on Nora and Charlie, from time to time, THANK YOU, it drives me forward and guides me closer to the finish line, making sure that everything they have to say will be put on paper, and one day will physically earn a place on bookshelves in your homes *the power of manifestation intensifies* :)
covered with the velvet of the night sky
I spread myself like ashes
in the dark
the warmest snow known to men,
these grey and red-colored flakes
made from the remains
of my soul,
( of my shell-shaped heart )
can you see it?
can you feel it?
tell me that you do
tell me it runs through your bloodstream
that it ignites your bones
that it paints crimson threads
between my fingertips
and yours
it's those stars that speak of flame
and dust
that love that exhales peacefully
in the midst of chaos
that sigh of relief
when the last galaxy in you has exploded
that exhale of surrender
bringing you to your knees
( multiple colored reflections
of the universe's song
vibrating inside your core
like a melody long forgotten
but forever present,
the most familiar echo
the sweetest whisper
that primal fire of the first breath
that synergy of all things that has led
me
to you )
I spread myself like ashes
in the dark, my love
the warmest snow known to men ,
I paint my bones with the black dust
from long-gone heartbeats
of Nebula's once golden tears
and the diamond longing
of all the Supernovas that came before me
their ink-dark powder covering my skin
so I can imitate the night sky
and shine
like never-ending clusters
of falling stars ,
so when I jump
into the abyss above
I will find my way to you
I will find my way to my other half of the night sky
I will find you there covered
in the same dust
skin shimmering with the softest embrace
of the cosmos that is now also mine,
I feel you now
you're calling my name
murmurning it so gently
against the loudness
that surrounds me
against the always present buzzing
of the human kind
I hear you
and my legs start running
my feet thud a rhythm against the ground
I jump
I leap
I fall
breathlessly and helplessly
into your sphere
like an unstoppable force never to be tamed
I take your hand
and our fingertips touch
the red thread connecting us
swirling
and twisting
around our wrists
gravity no longer holding it back
( like an underwater current,
so gentle in its caress )
there is no beginning to it
nore end
just a gentle string
moving to an elegant dance
a unique choreography designed
for the hearts beating
under our ribs
like pulsating drums
for the souls breathing between our scars
and hopes
like the softest
breeze of a summer's night
my sky whispers to yours
home is here
home is now
home is with you
purify me
I counted myself in bruises
I counted myself in scars
touching myself like a rough sketch
dented and pressed in
by the cursive lines
of your blazing, deep-scorched love
callused fingers
imprinting themselves
in the tattooed road map of my spine
these flames of yours
branding stars into my skin
( ash-colored freckles that you like so much on me )
I get so lost on you
turning greedily into dust
only to find myself
as my fire consumes everything in its reach
demolish me, love
purify my sins
cleans the dirt from under my bones
speak to me in fire
in light
in the language of all our past lives