Dire Notes : Flight

Once I'd caught a glance of her. It was a full moon night and I was counting footsteps in the attic. I gazed upon her naked body half in awe, and half in ecstasy. She was like an epiphany of nebulae sinking deep into the ocean of oblivion. I wanted to grasp her, absorb what was remnant of her other than the thoughts that constituted the infinite in me back at that moment. I wanted to bathe in the light of what she held against and amidst the same time. I felt time surrender at her somber feet and piercing gaze. 

The Great Comet of 1680 over Rotterdam by Lieve Verschuier 

Photograph Source : Wikipedia

She ran through me, tearing my flesh, intertwining what still was mine and what wasn't in the blink of an eye. The wind echoed around. I walked sown the flight of stairs like a snake about to shed its skin. I could feel her breath, the history of the galaxies attached to her fragrance carved the shape of the moon, of the day that struck against the course of the night like a gong hitting an ancient bell in the distant hills. 

Of mountains and echoes, of gallant silences that have preserved themselves in the caves and the whirlpools, she resonated the inconsistent spirit of a light
year. Relinquished on the verge of a shivering, empty skyline, I heard her dream a symphony.