I am safe here.
There are haunting melodies of accordion and violin encasing our embrace.
I am safe here, as the flood of light that usually follows the break of dawn is subdued by the curtains of our movement. Our feet follow something, they are not aimless, they are not invisible or ignored for this period in time. I am safe here, among the silent handbells and the fortresses of solitude that we break through. Our cravings of closeness are camouflaged yet resolute. I am safe here, because perhaps this is our halcyon moment- we ebb and flow together, but we are not waves, we are not of the wind. We are children together, or we are of the leaves- one of the two, or both. I haven’t decided. Roots, and arms, and branches, and dreams.
We trade cities between our eyes (sometimes between our cheeks), and we are like a nuptial procession, seeing each other for the very first time.
I am safe here, because though the ambulances sleep soundly, your arms are awake
september 8, 2009