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May 24, 2005
sounds of living
The door was not closed, the way I like it, the sounds of living will
find me again, the hallways are quiet, life is extended, moving, with no regard for the retched or the damaged few that will fall.
The windows will be opened, so the house breathe the spring air, and the breeze would dent the cloth of the curtains. I wait, as I do, as I have and always will, wondering the rooms, like a summer child looking for something to fill the boredom, knowing that it is the choosen exile that will bring me my absoloution, my recovery, my healing, so i would not bite my nails again, leaving the scabs alone,
as the flesh moves up to the surface.
and the restless presence of livings, my ghouls and mermaid, my ghost, my companions, will come out of darkness to rejoice with me in celebration of voids, of silences, anticipations of expectations, they will bring me quills and inks, so we name each room for a diety, and each hallway for a saint, allowing the house to emerge from its white facaded to the stains of memories and rememberance, we will sing
in our voices in unfamiliar tongues, and dance with our limbs extending in the air, there is a merrit to this passage there is a knowing, there is submission and acceptance, leaving the treshholds, for the heights unseen, beyound the madness of our depature, we will wait for the morning.
Posted by Idinraha at May 24, 2005 03:22 PM