She is a Season

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As she catches raindrops on the tip of her tongue, the leaves that blow around her are collected by magpies and squirrels that raise each one to the sky as if to show God they are so fortunate to have been touched by her beauty. As she spins in circles like a whirlwind, the dogs and cats from the neighbourhood leap into the air and circle her outstretched arms, and upon their faces and in their animal hearts they feel only joy and wonder at the one who shines upon them. As she closes her eyes and smiles at the clouds, the clouds come down and lift her off her feet and as she laughs like a child all the children spread their fingers upon the windowpanes in fascination at the angel who’s dancing outside. Like her, they know of no horrors, only of what it means to believe in magic, because magic is the only thing that keeps a person from growing old and crumbling. She doesn’t crumble, and she doesn’t grow old. In a bubble of soap and alcohol she floats. In a moment of time gently removed from the tapestry of life, she drifts beneath the streetlamps as their light illuminates her face the way daisies glow beneath an innocent chin. They told me when I was kid that if they did, then you liked butter, so it must be true, because there’s nothing more she likes than butter on toast along with her tea and cigarettes upon the doorstep while watching the seasons and people twist and change every morning yet somehow always remaining the same. It could be October, but it could be May. It could be raining, or it could be snowing. It doesn’t really matter. Nothing matters once you leave behind the ties that bind you to former lives and lovers that only ever dragged you down. And who wants that? Who wants anything less than sheer poetry and bliss in a moment that couldn’t be anything less?

A Journal for Damned Lovers Volumes 1 & 2 on Amazon.co.uk 

A Journal for Damned Lovers Volumes 1 & 2 on Amazon.com 

36 replies »

  1. What wonderful images. I’d never looked at street lights illuminating faces like that, but I will now. 🙂 can we ever truly cut ties to past lives and lovers? And I do so believe in magic.

  2. I LOVE this so much, and that ending (killer, as usual) really resonates – it’s like it was written for me, which of course in a way it was, because when we write we do so for ourselves but also for everyone else out there who might pick up fragments of their own emotions, feelings and lives in our words. Why am I rambling on? Because your words have gone straight to my core and brought tears to my eyes. Thank you ❤ xo

  3. god this is absolutely gorgeous. Autumn rains, winter snows, inspire me, or so I think, and then I read something like this. So beautiful. So real and magical at the same time. And I realize that any inspiration I had previous pales to this glory, this art. Even so, reading this pushes me on, to discover the magic I had overlooked prior, express that magic in a way that reminds me of that moment in time and perhaps touches the lives of those around me as well. Thank you for sharing this. I am truly moved, my soul has been pricked.

    • For me to have moved and inspired you is wonderful. To have pricked your soul is an achievement I shall hold close very dealy. There’s a shit load of darkness in us, but there’s also light, and the more we try and nurture this light, the more good we can put in the world. It’s a difficult dance, but if we can do it, it’s one that will give us halos x

  4. “It could be raining, or it could be snowing. It doesn’t really matter. Nothing matters once you leave behind the ties that bind you to former lives and lovers that only ever dragged you down. And who wants that?”

    I don’t want that. The feeling of letting them go is the BEST. x

  5. But sometimes, it takes forever, for you, to let yourself off the hook for what happened to you in the past, and stop letting your past get in the way of the way you interact and relate to others presently and in the futures to come…

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