The Unholy Trinity

I. Ambivalence 

With white knuckled hands, you ripped my body apart, piece by piece. You put my blood on your doorpost, scattered my ashes in the fields where no rain would come, made a peace offering with what little was left of me. You tortured me into silence, now expecting me to speak? You press your lips to mine with a hum in your cavernous mouth, with a scorched elation buzzing through your veins, a fire just behind your irises. Oh my love, my love! My frustrating love. You of the sunshine, you of the bitter blizzards, you bipolar movement of my pen and my noose, how do I go about it - wrapping my arms around the corpse of our ecstasy?

II. Admiration

A shaman, a muse, a traveler through my mind, a couch surfing maniac abounding in the thoughts I think, a socket to plug my nonsense into - you serve so many purposes in my land of make believe.

In the matrix, you are separate from me. In our egos, we dance on opposite sides of the sticky gym floor. In our separation, we forget what we once were. You taught me how to love. How could I cease to know the rhythm of the song you spoke into being for me? How could I forget the face of my dearest friend? 

In reality, we are one. Everything is one. There is no duality, there are no faces, no voices to argue, no space in between. In the void, it's you and me, two drops in one sea, and we are a we, and I'm perfectly happy.

III. Adoration

I did not clean the kitchen quite as often as I should have. It took me a week just to finish folding the laundry. I expected much of you and sometimes gave the lesser offering at the altar - Cain slaying his brother in a fit of rage. My heart couldn't take the sheer volume of love that you brought to the table.

And the hell I put you through at times, well that was undeserved. You were flawless to me, a celestial being, pure light surpassing all time and space. Your presence was the antidote to all things. Your heart was the color of my every day. 

Now I have to bring my own hues to the picture, paint with my own brushes. It's so hard not to miss you. 

Now I breathe the night air in deep, and beg the stars to say hello to you for me. (Are we staring, together, at the same one?)