Dream voice

[miir]

What she does not hear:

Only now. Now, with your eyes closed and your ears deaf to the sound of my voice. Now I can speak, now I can live: I love you. I love you.

Watching you thus I tremble as if kneeling before an altar. And I burn, the sacrifice on that altar, with all the intensity of my passion and all the desperation of these unheard pleas. For I love you in fire, in that terrible fierceness that gives no quarter and knows no surrender. I love you in blood, you who surge through my veins, a white-hot rush past the pounding in my ears. For your sake my heart beats, because of you fire burns, and the sun blazes golden at the very height of noon with the glory of your eyes.

Ah, your eyes! Brilliant, depthless, painfully clear: windows to the universe on a cloudless night shot through with stars. You could kill with your eyes, my love; they see so much and so deeply. Your gaze renders hearts transparent, pierces through souls. Destroys - with its heartbreaking clarity, the dark radiance that swallows up all light - and if you were to see me your eyes would leave me undone. You would lay me bare before you, these pieces of me like so many shards of glass.

Yet I would strip myself of all defenses before you; I would be vulnerable and naked and unafraid. I would have you know me as I know you: without defenses, free of that unyielding hardness that turns adamantine at the slightest touch. For beyond those barriers I have weathered the furious storms of your anger and heard the morning song of your joy; I know the painful pleasure you take in your solitude and your intoxication in your freedom. I see the tears that scald your pillow and I hear in your voice, beneath the effortless soaring of violin-music, the faint high note of crystal on the verge of shattering. Several times I feared you would break - oh beloved, though you are strong the sorrows you bear should not be borne alone.

There are few things you trust, but trust in me, trust in this: I will be with you in the valley of the shadow, in darkness, in doubt, in pain. You who are light and life and fire and the clarion song of the stars - let me shelter you when the dark threatens to extinguish you, when your pain becomes too sharp to bear. Take my hand. I am at your side not merely in need, but always. Only let me stay. Let me love you.

If you would only hear. I love you. I love you. I live for you, I would die for you, I love you with a love that can never be killed. I love you as a sword, as a sharp blade, as a blade that tears through obstacles and distance and time. I love you as a sea that cannot be contained; I love you as the limitless sky. I love you with the overwhelming gold of the sun and the candlelight of home; I love you with reckless abandon, with unquestioning faith. I love you with the love that accepts no conditions nor compromise, the love that knows no measure nor end. I love you, oh how I love you! In you I live, you are my breath and my heartbeat and my soul.

I exist because I love you. As long as I am I will love. You.

And still she cannot know.

-

Author’s notes, revised from the first posting:

She can’t even see, because she doesn’t believe. It’s one of her failings.

I wrote this one night sometime last month... I was a little sleepy but I wanted to find out what it would sound like. It's not exactly a love letter, it's a spontaneous... plea, something not thought about but coming directly from the heart (and perhaps half-crazed, all-delirious mind). I posted it to ephy back then but I thought I'd post it here too in case someone wanted to read and was too lazy to dig through the posts at ephy (I don't blame you). This piece was spurred into being by reading a lot of posts about love and the longing to be loved. The person who speaks is… a personification of Longing crossbred with the classic Lover, or at least my idea of him. It’s kind of scattered, but there are some bits I like - and images I couldn’t express fully but would like to explore more - that I might rework into a love letter sometime. Not that I have anyone to write to, but I like writing love letters. It feels a little like pouring one’s heart out onto paper: a violent outrush of heart’s blood.

Notes on the piece itself -- nothing much, really, it's unstructured and I wanted it that way, with only transition sentences or ideas leading to and from paragraphs. The speaker isn't actually thinking. Of course I say that because I wasn't thinking much when I wrote this, either. Fear my use of repetitions and rhythms and motifs! Feeeeeeaaaaar the redundancy of DOOM! (But seriously, if you were delirious you'd be circling around certain ideas and images wouldn't you?)

Also I'd like some insights about love, please; I'm writing a little piece for two of my friends and I'd like to have it as romantic and beautiful as possible (for something written by me, aka The Girl Who Crushes Hearts Beneath Booted Heel Without Batting An Eyelash Because She and Love Don't Get Along).

Um so yes. Let's talk about looooove, horrible thing as it is. XD