A passionate kiss in summer light.
Lips on skin, rays of love shining down.
Trust.
Love.
Faith.
Hold my hand as I hold tightly on to yours.
An ordinary day, was assumed.
At a window I spot your gaze.
Melancholy? Tears? What were the secrets you held behind your eyes?
I feel a gentle warmth on my neck.
Her hand was like a rose.
It was sweet and warm.
But today there was a thorn.
Felt in a place that hurt most.
Her heart was engulfed by thorns.
What caused it? I ask her gently.
I let her know I am her cradle for secrets.
The utopia she could flee to whenever she was cold.
She was often cold.
She rarely had strength to stand most days.
But today she was out of bed.
Today was different.
She embraced me tightly.
She assured me today was just an ordinary day.
°
°
°
Picnic, wine, sandwiches
Trees, tall grass, and some singing.
She ran in the field.
She smiled in a way I never saw.
Like an illness had never taken a day in her life.
Suddenly she collapses.
Pain, pain, pain.
It takes over her.
I bring her back to her bed.
I remark she played too long in the sun.
She smiles back.
But says nothing.
Today, she makes a request.
It is unusual for her.
We are normally direct with everything.
Long silence.
Foreboding wind.
"When the sunlight ends, will you stop loving me?"
Questions upon questions.
What was the meaning?
"You are my sun." I told her gently.
"And as long as we are together.
The sky will never get dark."
Her sadness sang like sirens.
Her eyes shine brighter than angels.
A gentle snap.
And it was night.
In her hand, a blade.
And the thing that shone brightest was blood in the crisp white sheets.
Today was love.
Tomorrow was pain.
Your warmth was the sin.
