Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I’m gazing at a distant star. It’s dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago. Maybe the star doesn’t even exist any more. Yet sometimes that light seems more real to me than anything… ~ Haruki Murakami

By The Light of The Moon
Written by 'The Girl'...
It was a day unlike any other because they loved each other, you see, but neither knew it of the other... Expectancy loomed, lingered, and danced in the air like a heavy fog awaiting a lover's whisper; an affirmation, a certain presence in the foreground that could illuminate the veil of misunderstandings and misgivings...

She waited, listening intently for it, but all the moment contained for her was a delicate hush which wasn't exactly the absence of sound, but the white noise of words left unsaid. 'I love you, I love you, I love you...' their voices echoed inside one another's heart, as if they were trying to catch the caterpillar the second it flew off as a butterfly. Unattainable and unrepeatable. In any case, where feelings for her were omnipresent, the expression thereof alluded him.

After all, it is not so much what we do to one another, in so far as what we do to ourselves. For who shall be saved if not to have first drowned? Such was the inconsistency of the heart. Its holes, its ravines, its majesty illuminating the darkness, and at times, compounding it.

Like a candle, she came flickering into the periphery. He could sense the impending doom of one who's about to lose their heart within the foreign land of another, and like an offering to the Gods, not knowing whether he'd be struck down in a wrath of lightning or knighted by Cupid's arrow, his fate was quite simply beyond his control.

The sky was full of richly decadent clouds, the kind you wished to rest your head upon at night with dangerous surrender, that fill your dreams with amorous gusts and languid sighs. Anticipation, their constant companion, continued to dangle mercifully in the air. The waves, almost melancholic for them, seemed to whisper in vague dissonance what their hearts could not reveal, 'He loves you, She loves you'... each time the waves crashed upon the shore, the ocean licking their feet.

He stepped nearer to her. Her hair like snow, dancing in the wind. In that moment he wished he were paralyzed. Nothing could have been more agonizing or beautiful than to forever prolong this moment of uncertainty...

However, this is only the continuation of a story that began long ago, in an age before time invented clocks and a life was instead measured by the beatings of the heart.

Once upon a time there was a girl who followed the sun and a boy who followed the moon and they were forever linked in longing. Two wholes which made up a half universe, unable conceive the entire thing because they were always together, yet forever apart. This is their story. The story of how the sun desired the moon and fell into the ocean while chasing the wind...

The shadow past is shaped by everything that never happened. Invisible, it melts the present like rain through karst. A biography of longing. It steers us like magnetism, a spirit torque. This is how one becomes undone by a smell, a word, a place, a photo… By love that closes its mouth before calling a name. ~ Anne Michaels

Maybe we have to betray ourselves in order just to be ourselves. In the end, Truth taps at the window of our souls. What quivers on the lake are only the footprints of Fate. Even our astronomers hear the funeral sounds of dying galaxies before they ever see them.
Gusts of time are filling my lungs...Today a hawk flew next to the car before darting out across the fields. I thought it was you. Each word, each gesture, is a feather for our wings. Later, I ran down that mountain and landed in your name... I’m the crow the hawks chase from their nests. I used to think Love would protect us from the shadows we cast. I used to think that Hope was not what jingled in our pockets. I used to think all this loneliness would be unbearable. Now each word is a betrayal, is the frayed rope-end of desire. Everything I say is like some cargo hidden in the hold of a sunken ship. In the end we all learn there’s no sea, no sky, no word big enough to hold all our pain. Only this kiss.
Only Love’s dragline already hooking the very thing it fears...
Richard Jackson

I wanted only to look at her green eyes and to hear the lilting song of her voice, as though her words were the notes I had been searching for, the vital sounds that I had never played. The most important notes in music are the ones that wait until sound has entered the ear before revealing their true nature. They are the spaces between the sounds that blow through the heart, knocking things over. ~ Simon Van Booy

Do you hear what I am saying? It is raining inside my dream of you. The only true saints won’t let the heart raffle off their desires. Once we could trust the simple spinning of the planet to bring us back. But to where? ~ Richard Jackson

She roamed through the space of her infinite sensations, experiencing neither sheer happiness or total fear. Her heart was divided… If she succumbed to the intoxication and enchantment of happiness, fear’s hammer struck her heart. She did not know whether it would be better for her to abandon her adventure or to continue obeying her heart… She lingered in her drowsy conflict for some time. Then the voices of fear and censure subsided, and during this truce she enjoyed an intoxicating dream.
Naguib Mahfouz

So much of space between us two, we kiss the planets when we kiss, no closeness ever shuts this out. So much of space between us two. We kiss the planets when we kiss, and all the ether knows your hand, and dust from Saturn foils my tongue, so much black light caresses us. No closeness ever shuts this out, but mouth from shoulder, thigh from thigh air unwinds our love, so distance holds, so love is safe… ~ Diane di Prima

Photo by Magnus Magnusson

You must learn her. You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to. You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept. And, this is how you keep her…
Junot Diaz

What would the world have been, Love, if we had not been, if your eyes had not been, what would the world have been? ~ Nizar Qabbani (Photo by Martin Lidell)