A journey, in full

I loved the way her voice sounded like rasping nails over a washboard, stripling over the iridescent beat, the syncopated piano, the muted horn. It all rushed together, but you could hear her tell the story with a haunting grace. She was not shy or afraid, even speaking of the most horrific things. Watching her shine brightly, I was afraid of what I was becoming.

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Now we're far away again, beyond civilization, out of reach. The warm sunlight is barely making it past the green canopy and I lay myself on the floor, looking up, allowing myself to find patterns in the leaves. Telling myself over and over how lucky I am, that I get to be here. I think of her beyond the need to be alone and I long to let her be part of my isolation. I contemplate what it means to feel safe and how I would love to let her feel it. 

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Passing through that place with the joy of returning, I look for her there with a childlike happiness, excited and overjoyed. By now, I have so many stories to tell her, so many names of places I can't wait to let slip from my lips into her open ears. I hold myself as still as someone with such an eager heart can. And then I wait an eternity...

And I dream

I will pour myself 

Into her heart 

And back again