Letter Rite I Cannot Must

Tear up the calendars of the days when my heart boiled over with the heat of blood lit love.

I buried myself in your scent. I luxuriate within the velvet folds of your robes, yet I am incense. I’m  curling like a cat’s tail around your head and finally come to rest in a pool filled by all of your layers.

When we slept alone. No one spoke to  me in my dreams. I shift away into black clean sleep, farther away than consciously knowing what to do, I followed the echoes home.

Late again, I found your back to me.

Now without a sun it looks wrong across the dark sea sk. I no longer know who hooked a wrong turn, and you were lost in the wrong direction. I’d forgotten how to write a postcard.

Right now with a look invented by yesterday, slip your card secretly into my pockets. You added to my risk profile a division problem with a remainder of

suffering that’s the equal to infinity which holds in its palm all of the numbers, even the odd imaginary ones,

and the one that cannot be divided except by either one of us. As two we fell into an affair of afterthoughts. Stupid throw away lines like “all the stars ever born.”

We embodied all the love ever swallowed. It was as if by will of force someone moved to live right now, and a life declared itself lit by our success.

But we failed. Tested low. Us so unaverage, painting with our blame we blacken our everythings. Spending a dollar meant more than my Cheshire smile in a body washed up on a Royal red blood tide upon the lights of the Queen’s necklace.

Failure listens through walls. It hears drumming, but shouting so much more like distant children getting slapped in shame, which is owned by a hand. It belongs to God’s voice, and you bestowed on me the right to forgive only one of us.

It’s easy to forget when you can cast the last stone during a secret ritual in a dead language. How I cannot write this down now, because I have loved only once.

My doubt exceeded measurable magnitudes, too much to write a simple goodbye. The letters cracked my body in half, and in a desert pond I lay thinking I must die just now. The dice threw themselves at my head as I woke up in a hysterical position.

Because I do remember justice’s blind compassion. You saw blindly into me and I heard you silently say, tracking me everywhere in your blue gaze – hide and never forget us and the forgotten will never find us.

So where now do I go to find you and make our new roots green again?

I can’t leave here knowing that we became each other’s closing doors. The endless slamming made us mad with deserving so much more than this.

It’s so bright outside and I must go touch the sun or the earth will split in half like an egg and lose the life we meant to live into it’s bath in the universe.

And the last sound you hear is shattering of my iced soul and it’s cradled body hitting the hot air and then gone forever.

Ilene

Female. East coast transplant living in the Bay Area of California. Living with Stage IV breast cancer. Married to the coolest guy in the universe who occasionally suffers from serious depression. Love my stepsons, although I never thought I'd have that thankless job - ever! And my best friend Simon is also my cat. How I have survived with stage IV: treatments including chemo and surgery; palliative oncology; tenacity; a dark sense of humor; support groups; and my newly reinvented career as a vintage and antiques maven. Some days I miss the old me who led a well respected and well paid life as a business strategist in high tech. So much for that. I blog to simply share my experiences and my poetic approach with others who have cancer of any kind or with their care givers and those who love them. If one person at the very least finds a little commonality or a friend out in the ether tor a smile, a common nod about this experience, or even a link to assistance, then I have accomplished a small but extraordinarily meaningful goal. Go team.

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