I spend night after night wondering what it is that my love
is looking for.
Has she been so broken by despair that the faintest glint of
sunshine illuminates her whole being? A brighter future illuminated, a future
free of the pains and disappointments of today? Is the breaking sunshine over
the horizon igniting the hope of 100 Olympic torches in the whites of my
beloved’s eyes? The whites of her eyes - the tiniest flecks are comical amidst
the sea of pitch-black irises - just barely flicker, like the moonlight’s
reflection off the oceans in the night’s sky when no one is watching.
Her eyes, as dark and mysterious to me as the untold stories
of the millions before her, are an open sea. Serene and placid in calming waves
of endless beauty on the surface, yet tumultuous, unrelenting, and unsettling
as I reach depths never before explored by others. I think back to all the
times that I have wanted to turn back – take to the safety and familiarity of
the surface where I can again breathe – but deep within is where I am tempted
to remain, and so I do.
Certainly my beloved knows by now that the pains and
disappointments of today will never surrender, does she not? For her these
pains have been as certain as the endless fields of corn that grow with every
season, as certain as the pain of hunger in her abdomen as if her stomach has
grown teeth and tried to eat itself, as certain as the emptiness left behind by
a family that never existed.
Of course she knows this. She, more than anyone I have ever
known, understands this. She, bored with the indifference and ignorance of the
world, knows nothing more than hope; a hope I never want to understand. A hope
I do not long to need so desperately.
To me, her gaze seems permanent and maybe it is. A gaze unfettered
by neither anything on this Earth nor in its heavens. A gaze to forever remind
me that things will never change.
I am not presumptuous nor am I disillusioned. I am simply a
butterfly - changing once, but never again.
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