Darling, are you there?

It was never meant to be. I was a wildfire, a catalyst of angry gods and clashing armies, tangled in some early web of galactic burdens, ghosts of unknowns haunting me. Darling, you must have sensed that things that were, never should have been. Yet still, here in this now void of crystal, sailing stardusts of deep rumbling behemoth trembling — I look to take a hand that is not there.

Darling, won’t you come? I left the key which brought me here settled upon the mantle. Dear Darling, do you remember dance? Windswept tendrils of breath, that churn in cold twilights. Do you remember song? The dream that’s hidden beneath the noise of where you are. Where I now stand, there exists only the sound of vibrant, deepening drifting. Will you not come and drift with me? If you would miss your four walls, your spice-racks and your cupboards, your untouched books and albums, your fireplace without fire and your daily routine, leave me here alone in this realm. There is no air here, it is not for those with lungs. Take that however you wish, my illusions and disillusions were often a subject for debate. I now exist in the space between, my matters are all shades of grey. Do you struggle? How can you not? If there is no struggle, you are destined to fail. Don’t you see? Should you at long last catch the wind, sail away, do not look behind. If you let go you shall never capture it again, and yet if you succeed and hold tight and vanish into the bright abyss, keep in mind you can never go back.

There is no going back from this place.

We never spoke of many things, did we, Darling? Never talked without words, never conversed without flying letters filling the eardrums loud. Everything we really thought, was so secreted, buried alone in the stiffness of us. But, if there is one thing you must know, just know that I loved you. And should you ever decide to follow, to come for me, dearest Darling, just head to the willow, where I first set foot in that crownless, unholy ground left.  Come sail with me, Darling. I care not for the gone cupboards, the books, the world. But even here, I miss your touch.

Darling… Are you there?