Tend Towards

Thursday Skies

At first you stare, and I watch how you feel - you have shreds of skin exposed to the wind and the sun. 

I can't tell when you're barely flesh and mostly bone, but the tilt of your face up to sky and your palms open to the air tell me that I could never feel things like you, Dear.

You turn to me and take my hand, as if an offering of the warmth of the light, or the cool of the breeze, and I wish that I could feel things like you.

We start walking, slowly. It's foreign. We've been in a sleep for far too long to remember how to use these frail limbs. I sense the movement of strips of sinew in my legs, and you stretch out your other arm as if you can live in the pleasure of the motion.

We always did like to play pretend that we can feel, and I more so than you.

The love I've shared with you in our impermanent cage was one of belonging and safety and comfort. Now, it turns over and goes back to sleep, while the new love of living and movement and sun and air does the Wednesday Rise.

Don't you wish you could feel things like me? The sunlight runs its tender fingers across the bones of my ribcage, and gently holds the cavity where my heart hangs blue. It's sunlight on the inside. Don't you wish you can feel things like me?

The wind from the Thursday sky curls around my skull, stroking the wisps of hair that flow down my face, and breathes calm into the maggots in my brain. There's a hurricane in my thoughts. Don't you wish you can feel things like me?

You move faster, and your grip slips from mine. You tumble and stumble and Wednesday Rise by this riverside. You dance and you fly and you jump and you run, and I sit down beneath the willow. 

I wish I could feel the world like you.

I sit and I stare and I think and I love.

I wish and I hope and I watch as you run, as you twirl like a leaf in the sun and the wind. I sit and I wish you could feel the warmth in my heart and the hurricane in my brain that stir and tumble and run and fall and fly like you do. 

I wish that you could feel the love of the light and the wonder of the wind in cages of my bones when I see you feel the world in only that way you can. 

As you feel the warmth of the sun, and the cool of the wind, I sit here and I feel the love of the light and the wonder of the wind under these Thursday Skies, in only that way I can.

I wish you could feel the things you make me feel with the things you do like I do.