fool's paradise

a little old.

tonight i dreamt of a rooftop,
of a storm. it was quite spectacular, 
the sort that goes above and beyond the call of duty in its magnificence.

my tender, passionate words; how rushed forth, stumbling over one another and spilling out -

“i love you! i’m in love with you!”

yelled over the rain,
lost in the thunder.

your laughter, (i am breathless.)
your eyes. they tell me my feelings have failed to reach you; 
once more.

we spun and we spun as the heavens cascaded down all around at the edge of the world, 
on that rooftop -
only us two.
we danced against the backdrop of a sky that never seemed so endless, so full of possibility
moving seamlessly through moments which each captured the very essence of beauty, of bliss
unlike anything else. 
moments beyond description.
moments that would become memories that would become treasures.
on that rooftop, falling away from reality, into the truest, purest ecstasy. (i was breathless.)

i never thought i’d know anything like 
you holding me, your arms around me and my
trembling form. i shook as it all came into definition. 
quietly, gently; i knew then that those minutes and seconds and instances were sinking into my skin, soaking in, sinking under 
to rest there where i would feel them for all of my remaining existence and beyond, intensely, perpetually. 

all i know is that the rain is deafening me but still i hear and feel your every shuddering breath, each telling me this is real and i am here and we are alive and holding on and tonight i love you.

- - -

it is 4:15am and you’re forever away 
under the same stratosphere but lying in another bed dreaming of someone 
else. 
someplace else.

beloved, we are oceans and skies and realities apart, and only drifting
further. 

tears are meaningless and the cold, harsh reality of this same room, always the same room
it doesn’t shock me so much any more and
this heartache is more a part of me than anything, i know it so well,
i know it so, so well.

morning is still far, the sun shan’t threaten the stars yet
and i’ve so many more worlds to visit tonight
before i see another tomorrow without you,
so let’s drift.

my breathing wavers,
falls -
steadies and the room fades and
i am wiping my eyes, slipping into a new fantasy when i feel the edge of my conscious stir

and somewhere i wonder 

“can you feel that rooftop?
feel me thinking of, dreaming of you?”
“did you feel the rain falling everywhere, all around, onto your face too?”

Reviews

[annie lee]

This a complex structure; you build the dramatic stormy rooftop scene evocatively and then plunge the reader into the cold reality of a sterile, lonely room. The reader is left to wonder: which of these two pictures is the dream-scape? This has layers of emotion and knife-sharp icy edges. I like.