by Carly Chalfant
She examined me with eyes so full of understanding it almost made me feel safe. Her lips parted with such tenderness, it almost made me feel loved. The lies she speaks so sweetly, will always sleep unspoiled in my psyche. I knew it was all an act, but damn was it good. The light illuminated her perfect jaw, sharper than a shard of glass that could cut my heart in half. Her voice was one of a dove, alluring, pulling me in just so she could fly away once more. Her skin, soft as a rabbit, could make an unknowing person think her soul was just the same.
I could lie here with her till the sun explodes and fire rains down; yet I shall stay at peace. But behind this one I so desire, storm clouds follow, waiting. Waiting for their time to arise and send me fleeting for cover. Oh but the eye of the storm intrigues me so. I bask in the rain, I bathe in the muddy pools of its sorrow. I run to storms, broken and bruised, I'll chase them. Yearning for the cold sweet pain, I'll find myself in a hurricane. Unwanted by all except myself. This storm I sense inside her lies untamed, untempered, an unturned stone. Why must I crave this internal terror, this pleasing pain I see? Why does this one pull me in so? Perhaps it’s the lightning striking her soma that causes her to be in as much dread as I. Perhaps she’s all too good at her lie. For when we collide, the heavens will cry, hell will rise, and Earth will not know who to despise.
Some say my sky is unseeable, but hers is an illusion painted in by the parasites that seek refuge in the mind. The clock strikes perfectly as I inhale her sweet sweet scent. In her arms we float transfixed in gaze. The spinnaker of a sailboat is visible in her ocean eyes, fighting the waves, braving the battle of the seas of deceit. The tidal abides by, waiting for its inevitable time to sink the ship into the deepest depths of despair. As we grow closer the turmoil intensifies. She senses devastation ahead, but enjoys the calmness of the eye. How I crave that feeling of peace before the tsunami. The weeping willows of woe will always welcome me with open arms. I will forever reside by your side until we die. My precious alibi.