I watched you make one of the coldest moves in front of our reflection. You plunged through billowing smoke into areas that lacked any expression at all. I saw you shift away into various shades of pictures then run shrieking using all that you had seen as an excuse. While all the while, I was arranging to tour the fields of you.
I saw headlines printed in places so that they became more than just this morning’s declarations. I really liked how you always understood all the tiny little windows you said they held because this is how you knew everything that was happening. Yes, you knew it all.
There were hundreds of experiences I could hear asking me why you were making the coldest moves. Yet, you acted as if you never heard them. Still, I saw the look in your eyes the minute they approached. Somehow, I could tell you knew that what you saw smiled and looked forward to not hearing what we both needed to say.
All I could do was shake my head and begin to face more puzzling hours filled with only you and your insistence that I adjust the temperature of the air you had frozen. I wondered how anyone could stand and look at you and not be startled by who you are.
Blurs of agitation too strange for even me to identify looked over my shoulder with excitement. They were not there to inhale my perfume only to seek out my scars. The scars that visit my heart from time to time to remind me they can still hold my arms back from reaching out to you.
Even though you laid right next to me we could no longer find each other in the billowing smoke that issued from our breath. Ice had begun to form between our hearts within the coldest moves. There we lay in the darkness both of us looking for the best place to hide.
Take my word for it, as this was not an illusion. I swear I saw cold clouds hanging over the bed laughing at you and me. Because we didn’t have the faintest idea that the darkness wasn’t real or how close we lay to what could make us warm again.
I saw headlines printed in places so that they became more than just this morning’s declarations. I really liked how you always understood all the tiny little windows you said they held because this is how you knew everything that was happening. Yes, you knew it all.
There were hundreds of experiences I could hear asking me why you were making the coldest moves. Yet, you acted as if you never heard them. Still, I saw the look in your eyes the minute they approached. Somehow, I could tell you knew that what you saw smiled and looked forward to not hearing what we both needed to say.
All I could do was shake my head and begin to face more puzzling hours filled with only you and your insistence that I adjust the temperature of the air you had frozen. I wondered how anyone could stand and look at you and not be startled by who you are.
Blurs of agitation too strange for even me to identify looked over my shoulder with excitement. They were not there to inhale my perfume only to seek out my scars. The scars that visit my heart from time to time to remind me they can still hold my arms back from reaching out to you.
Even though you laid right next to me we could no longer find each other in the billowing smoke that issued from our breath. Ice had begun to form between our hearts within the coldest moves. There we lay in the darkness both of us looking for the best place to hide.
Take my word for it, as this was not an illusion. I swear I saw cold clouds hanging over the bed laughing at you and me. Because we didn’t have the faintest idea that the darkness wasn’t real or how close we lay to what could make us warm again.
Copyright *Neva Flores @2011
You have certainly made a different move with this one Neva, I do like this little tale. Well done and TY:))
ReplyDeleteHeartfelt prose, when the moves are misunderstood and need dialogue, not all speak the same language.
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ReplyDeleteThis is raw with emotion and so true. We are oft blind to what can remove the chill.
ReplyDeletelove this neva...think this may be the first bit of prose i read by you...you turn the emotions quick with this...it left me in shivers....
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely captured the moments in a relationship that turned from love to war. The narrator has begun to see the flaws she never saw before and he uses every past hurt to remind her who knows her darkest secrets and then uses them to fight with. He never hears her pleas of why just the little windows of insight that give him the whole story (he thinks).
ReplyDeleteI like the change up from poetry to prose-poetry. It is good to move throughout your range Neva.
Neva:
ReplyDeleteLife's bittersweet moments when the love of your life runs cold, the passing of love,gone from your hearts replaced by the bitter cold, once a true love now worn out. A very poignant and bittersweet prose. Well written.
Joanny
Well, what to say in response to this?
ReplyDeleteIt's intensely moving, with language and imagery so evocative and skilfully constructed that I'm left awed by it's brilliance. Neva, Your work never ceases to amaze and impress me.
Thank you for sharing this. I shall return to it many times.
Kind regards, James.
I can only congratulate you for the greatness of this prose Neva ...
ReplyDeleteAlways brillant..
Wow a break frrom the norm Neva, this is great.
ReplyDeleteNeva this is so different from other work I've read of yours...and every bit as wonderful.
ReplyDeleteI'm ok, just kind of laying low these days...thanks for asking.
I really like this change in style Neva - I'd love to see more like this. Stunning work.
ReplyDeleteAn unexpected change of style but nevertheless as awe inspiring as your poems. Superb.
ReplyDeleteFantastic writing....what a whirlwind of emotions....send a shiver down my spine..!
ReplyDeleteBeautifully sad. Nice prose.
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