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The Unknown Part of The Night
I saw in a photo book a falcon spread its wings from which tree branches let subtle dew. In the wings were eyes of myriad colors and shadows developed which went unseen in the living presence. I thought the moment a picture is taken an instant in time is frozen. A mirror image of that moment is held forever unchosen. Until the point of no return is reached and the shutter clicks. But if this exposure can manipulate an editing edifice than surely anyone can edit the setting.
But what about time and the grip that slips from flesh and bone marrow? Time is an invisible permanance shifted forward to the perpetual dread contained in the substance of memory which one cannot derive any comfort. Even in photographs the accumulation of moments pass to an evanescence that the physical and surrounding world opposes but remains in mercy of.
To recall an entire day in an existence is impossible but yet we act as if time is present. Yesterday is gone and so is the moment when one put to paper the very words that you see before you. And therefore shift behind to further cement death in the presence of the omnificent sun reflecting the water of a stream. That which ends in pasture where centuries ago weeds transfigured swaying in the summer breeze now of which relegates the past tense. Out of the empty skull of the man holds generations of variations. Until removed the invisible aura of time stood for eons while the ancient face covered in golden mask gazed at the always permanent sky of a single day in time. Exposure of air ate away at the brazen face. For all love is death and all death is love as all love dies with the body and mind which created the blind.
Though some remain mute they hear hatred and their heart lives only in paper to be thrown away. You can live a lifetime in a single day and not know it. A vessel is the body which conforms to the air and thus offers the scents and senses an opportunity to experience what everyone can see in a short lifetime.
Some called it an illusion but others kept to the vast night knew it was a darkened silhouette. Walking through the empty streets to cheat death invisible if not aflame to the wispy lucent pale speckle of stars that makeup the biological atlas of microscopic dust. Only the essence is bright to the plain sight of those who in this maze of moment saw the various objects pose within the inhabitant. Like light reaching a transparent fossil building refraction. Distorted and low in pitch wavering to the atmosphere it went through the air so as to not see death move a little closer.
No matter the environment the projection only emits a process through whatever form it inhabits. Just yesterday, only a year ago, before we know it. Time slips away. Soon it will all be gone. You must confide in yourself the only form of yourself. That which truth cannot deny. To smash away the walls. Set fire to the inner notion that anyone else is there to love you. Nobody is truly capable of love at least if not a reflection of a desired form of oneself. The many sides we hide. Though, we only live until we die. In regards to some, skin retracting, fingernails continue growing after death because it could be they don't know any better. So used to scratching and clawing their way into the heart of someone who will never care.
I remember her beauty in the winter light, the thinness of her lips and the way she concentrated sternly placing her tongue between her teeth. As if it mattered that she struggled to button her jacket. A strange kind of feeling pervaded in my chest. Is it love? The eternal quest? The minds eye can trick the thief of life and deceive the one who longs for an end when all is an end. A smile in relation to the pointless simplicity of self preservation in the winter snow can trick a heart. Her laughter echos through my chest to resuscitate from the cold. Her smile, kindness and warmth. Through observation it was said they persuaded the meek to inherit the unnecessary consequential. I recall her blushing which illuminated her grace and time stood still showing the moments of her face. And with this she departs. But nothing purely innocent lasts as contradiction latches to the past to kill those idealistic.
The skin is always moving in unison with matter that you never cared to notice. We once moved like tigers and we will die in the same away. At once the gods which one once confided perish to the scattering feathers through generations of opulent sand. Sweet death much like the embrace of an angel. Too willed to know it but before you know it the will submits to lack of breath. You shall only hope you remain present to feel it slip away. But if nobody can see time and those memories held within will anyone care to know where to look? We're skeletons in embrace leaving no trace in the living tense as much if only an outline rediscovered in an ancient gravel grave. Viewing the misty early morning landscape from afar the burning fields. Matter like the dispel of space between objects. Like the air it is up to us to see what is there.
Years from now after your beauty has faded and you can feel the beating of your heart that gave way to the conscious state of the senses. In the density of time when in night, come back again with the wind and crawl under my skin so I can take you with me. Where we all go in the end which is nowhere my friend. I never did find love but I often think of all those martyrs who didn't die of old age and it makes me feel so lonely. An unknown species trapped in amber trying to inch through ninety five million years echoing cyclical cries of life. Tell me when I looked into your eyes was I just a shadow that you passed by every day? Like shadows appearing in the curtains and through the cracks of the pavement where fortunate souls escape the living Earth. A falcon with glowing eyes. He could smell the rare air and knew the land was unlike anything before. Like moments of everlasting chance.
