Whisper of the Sun

I can feel myself pulling away from those around me.  The parts of life that enchanted me, that made me want to become one with the world at large are losing their luster.  My gaze is turning inwards, and the roots, the tendrils of my self that I’ve reached out with, are pulling up from the fertile soil, drawing away from the warmth and the comfort of my personal suns. They notice my passing, those suns, they notice that I am no longer taking the time to bask in their brightness, in the rays of their influence.
 
And there you stand, ready to take the blame and the blows.  You add another layer to your horsehair shirt with every sigh and cry that drops forth from my mouth.  The stripes on your back tell stories of sins and sorrows which you’ve tried to take from the world, only to let them kiss your skin and draw blood. 
 
In the stillness of the night, I laid by your side and whispered secrets into your ear.  Mirrored figments of brilliance poured from my lips and shone into the darkest parts of me, the smokey light of my past illuminating your silence.  Bits of my self were amputated, taken from the whole so to stop the spread of the bile that threatened to poison my very existance.  My voice, hoarse from screaming in contemplative indifference, was finally heard, a thread of bloated gold that stretched from me, across the thousands of miles, to you.  With phone and heart in hand, you exorcised the ghosts that had haunted my thoughts and emotions, so deep down so not to have been seen at all by my inwards looking eye.  
 
Dawn broke, as it often does, in a halo of light.  I arose to greet the day only to find you a thousand, million miles away, getting further with each passage of a heartbeat.  I raged and wailed, beating my fists against the glass covered wall of your seemingly indifference.  I could not understand it; how could two such as us, whose souls were married by the most intimate of sharings, be so far apart from one another once Sol returned to the world? But it wasn’t the reimergence of the father star that drove us apart, but the reawaking of that world.  In the darkness we were the only two who existed; the night belonged to us and us alone.  There is no outside world, no other selves.  We belonged to one another, and to the other alone.  How could you forget our twining?  Our souls and bodies bound themselves to one another.  You breathed, and the air filled my lungs.  I sighed and our breath left your lips.  How could you believe that it would change with the bringing of the dawn?  I still belonged to you, and you to me.  The heart that beat in my chest still sang its sweet song, reminding me of life and of love, of whispered conversations across the miles, and of memories of bittersweet tears.  But you seemed deaf to the sound of my heartbeat, hearing only the silence between each murmer and sigh.  
 
And into this stammering and stuttering place, I raise my arms, letting the light of my inner fire shine down upon all that I love and cherish, the rays of my self nurturing and loving, urging the world below to grow and be strong.  
 
It is in this moment that I share with you the innermost of my truth.
 

During the night, I may belong to you, and you alone.  But during the day, I belong to the world.