Beginning at the end of the world
we have suffered enough
A swirl of silent sparrows overhead.
My bearded face to the iridescent ocean. A mild wind brushes against me. My bare feet are planted in the blackest sand. A deep glass of Kentucky bourbon, filled to the brim, held firm in my hand.
You, my glorious wife, beside me. Nothing greater than your laughter. Nothing more soothing than the sight of moonlight upon your shape.
Lay with me, my love. Pure and unclothed. Warm ivory skins pressed against the cold raven sand.
Let the waves lick our wounded heels. We’ve wasted our entire lives running. Running. Running from cops, parents, ghosts, pasts, jobs, bad neighborhoods, temptation, death.
Let us now enjoy this silence.
Listen…
Your pulse is my pulse. My pulse is yours.
Despair chased us for decades. But it could not follow, could not reach us here on this gentle, ebony edge of shore.
We have paid our debts. We have suffered enough. Forgiven and atoned. Starved and sacrificed—soul to bone.
We share a simple life, quiet and true, revealed behind the yellow leaves of a grand maple tree in a small, red cabin. Revealed beyond the lights in the full dark at the end of the world.
Our endless days are filled with wine from porcelain cups that never empty. We watch the horizon glow with steady eyes; no longer nervous, but eager for the future.
No more sleepless nights. No more visions of violence. No thirst. No hunger. We no longer gasp, we breathe. We no longer fade, we thrive.
We create—recreate from what was once barren. Art from ashes. Words from stone. Song from flame.
Each loving the other with the soft, brutal strength of a dying sea.
Alive. Finally, alive.
Outside of time. Outside of time.
This was a tender song. Beautifully written
Beautiful as always