Requiem: a Love Story

Beneath the requiem lies eloquent verses; its tenants transgress while in mourning. Yet bequeathed of its passerby’s there are dormant cries that echo. I am there among them.

We envision plains and grains of gold dancing westward into the receiving winds. We can hear thunder of past and present as they come together in a splendid display of courage and contradiction. Of these people’s misgivings- the forthcoming events surpassed the very foundation of their imaginations. And to this day we cannot look passed yesterday’s festering lesions to find our way to tomorrow.

I have taken many appropriate steps to confuse what is right and what is wrong. These harbored thoughts are what bring me to this place. My shallow intellect is bounded with crazed lunatics that seem to know my name wherever I go. And there are misguided factions bartering for my insanity; they somehow embrace me as one of their own.

And contained within the very essence of her being were constellations of stars that glimmer and hold me enslaved to their passion. I see them when I awake in the morning and I clamor to them without question or hesitation in the eve.

And within her there are prepubescent ideals that shriek innocence. Yet they swell within her womb and breed maturity, intelligence and pride. Her brood manufactures hurtful truths, yet waning is my belief that they are not real or they will one-day fall wayside.

Ode to the sharp cinnamon-apple taste of her skin that lingered forever and fatefully on the tip of my tongue. It began with the mere mention of sex and its aroma wafted fruitfully toward my inflamed nostrils until it ripened and pierced my heart.

Denying the aforementioned sentiments is an affront to the words destiny and fate. I would die, neigh give the very last beat of my heart to undo what has been done. To digress, it is electricity- one hundred million volts pounding and coursing through cold hardened veins. In its simplest forms it is raw and untreated. Yet complexity forces me into the realization that fault lies somewhere deep within mine own self.

“I love you Tessa.” I spake as I caressed her cream colored shoulder and drank in her breath.

Her eyes closed briefly. This very action instilled upon me the truth that I have known all along. Her head dropped partially in shame, partially in a loss for words. Her rose colored cheeks faded and then her eyes opened.

Upon the edge of the woodlands we gathered imagining shaped clouds of colorless folds- unbounded in riches and unfettered by ideas. Tessa looked at me and then quickly looked away. I could hear her breathe; I could see her heartbeat.

“We believe what we want to believe.” She whispered softly before she blanketed herself. “I think you have always known that.”

Seven years collected in memory- where delusions rise to the surface and hold me condemned to die by my own thoughts, my own feelings, my love. I still remember those words as if they were being spoken at this very moment through her raspberry pouted lips. “I think you have always known that.”

I have.

Even now there are doubts hanging, lingering as if I had not put my entire existence into her happiness. Begrudged heart separated from how it all began. I slowly came to the realization that it was out of my hands.

“I do love you.” I reiterated my stance.

To be shunned and castrated from your life-love demanded more than just soft words and idle threats. Yet I still cling to inane attempts at saving face or dreams “I love you,”- how foolish that must sound to the strong and the bold. “I love you,”- yes goddamn you, I wish I had never spoken those words.

I found myself smiling with embarrassment and humiliation. Yet I still dream- even now- there are no escapes from my prison. I am forced to move forward and never, ever look back.

For my passions are not lighthearted in nature, neither are they lacking in enthusiasm. And for those of you that dismiss my endeavors with not so much as an acknowledgement, I say to you, we are of one body and one soul bounded throughout eternity. I still grow tired reasoning- for we are what we are, nothing less and certainly nothing more.

We the pathetic, the loathsome that come together in a place and time that is neither recognized nor damned by God. I reach out my hand heavenward and touch his fingertips before I realize that there are only judges and sacrificial lambs brought to slaughter.

“We believe what we want to believe.” My Tessa said, reiterating her position.

O’er the lands scope and horizons there were tall foliage scraping past the plains of grain and gold. They danced together in unison as if they were claiming the universe as their own. Beseeched of bountiful graces I am lacking in imagination, yet this plant life cursed at me as if I trespassed against it. I am a fool- I am seven years less- less being, less capable, less me. The masterful willow spat at me; I knew I was defeated.

That was the very last time that I saw my Tessa. Ode to the apple-cinnamon taste of her skin. Ode to what once made me complete.

So you see… I have taken many appropriate steps to confuse what is right and what is wrong. These harbored thoughts are what bring me to this place. My shallow intellect is bounded with crazed lunatics that seem to know my name wherever I go. And there are misguided factions bartering for my insanity; they somehow embrace me as one of their own.

Dreaming these dreams of madness can be wearisome at times. My utterance of help is barely audible to the nurse as she hands me the white colored capsule. She cannot begin to comprehend what it means to be half a person- half a man. Seven years forgot, still staring at these four padded walls.

I will miss you Tessa.