How Would You Call Me?

I love you. I've always loved you. And I always will. I don't want to turn this thing we have into another kind of weird fantasy and ruin it. I wanna keep this energy alive. Cosmic and pure. I want to become the words I only dare write not whisper. I want to touch you with my eyes open, not while I desperately stare inside myself in search for something that has once fallen apart and that I can't seem to build back. 

Try to love yourself, she said. If you fail, that's just part of the exercise. It's not a mistake, it's a trial. You happen to learn by trials. But what, I say, if I don't want to love me? The hardest I try, won't matter if I don't really want. I will never succeed. Sometimes, through my loneliest steps and countless procrastinations, I wonder... How would you call me? What would your voice sound like? Do you ever sing along your favourite tune? Would I like it? 

I should close my eyes now and just try to figure out what my deepness looks like. Touch it. Feel it. Looking for the exstasy beyond fear and only imagined evil. Let my mind go for a walk through landscapes of pleasure and inspirational desire. Should I go with you? Or leave you in peace and keep you in the safe garden of separation and only rational connection? 

Just lay beside you, while we stare at each other in kindness, deep into our very eyes, not a single word to tell what is all too clear to see. Two souls longing for a handful of mixed emotions to fill the empty space inside their physical bodies, sharing the load, in silence, with someone who truly, fully understands, without explanations. 

Regardless of time, regardless of goals. Two souls, two halves of the same spirit, meant to get together, one day.


YUKI, AKA PRISMA
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