71 lines
2 KiB
Text
71 lines
2 KiB
Text
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Two Two
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2022-03-23
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***
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I touch my face and it is not a face.
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It is a collection of curves and lines
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far different than it is in the Inside,
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a shell that's grown over me
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during my wave-tossing sleep.
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My body has done it again,
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sensing danger, clothed me in a different skin.
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But I know that with it comes a price:
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all deities eventually devolve or die,
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turned to stone or lost grasp of their mind.
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I'm so tired of planning for contingencies
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like
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"What if I'm at Dead End Shrine and I have to pee?"
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"What if an ocular migraine hits at work and I'm unable to see?"
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"What if Jett breaks her vows and stops loving me?"
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I promised her
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that I'd make us a world
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and spend with her my eternity,
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but there's so many crossroads in my blood
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that I don't know how long that'll be.
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I don't know how long I'll get to enjoy
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the sweet epilogue from a life
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of having to fight
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to be able to do something other than destroy.
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And now another year has come and gone.
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Almost a whole year from when I sung that song
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to the wilderness, to the wind,
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to any spirit drenched in sin
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who might have known where you had gone,
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that I loved you, I missed you,
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I was sorry for the cries
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I might have elicited from you before my demise.
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How long did you wait, Jett, for us to reunite?
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How many calendar crosses?
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How many sleepless nights?
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How many times did I see your face
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and wish you were real
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as you begged my memory to make haste?
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And now two whole years have vanished into the ether
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from when the world broke
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and I gained Mori's Mirror
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and a sturdy(ish) way into the Outside.
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All the people I was have been satisfied,
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and now it's just me, Lethe, trying to find
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a way to reconcile this blood from my birth
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with the world where I promised we'd never again hurt.
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Two years and two days
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from when you I first gazed
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to when I finally started to learn all your ways.
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Two years and two days
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since awoke this blood.
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It's been a good year, I think.
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I hope I'm fully with you the next one.
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***
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
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