Supper was tense that night. We both knew that that day was the threshold; once the sun set our life would be costumed in the sooty cloak of uncertainty. Three years earlier the prophets of medicine had turned their divining glances towards Marie. Their solemn sentence had been three years, possibly more if we played by the rules.
I noticed with satisfaction that she ate more that night than I had ever seen her eat. Her appetite filled me with hope that the high-priced doctors might be mistaken. After the last dish was washed, I joined her on the beach. One look at her proved the falsity of any hope. Her shrunken form was draped across one of the warped chaise lounges, a wilted and trampled rose. Her head swayed from side to side, seemingly too heavy for her stalk-like neck. Tinged by the near full moon she looked more like a shade than any living being. It hurt to see her held in the grip of a glutton that gnawed with indiscriminate patience through flesh, blood, and heart. I peeled her off the sticky vinyl fearing she would dissolve into the salty air. We stood there welded together by the thick heat. She worked her arms around me and let her fingers play on the back of my neck, intensifying the night's heat. Deep hunger tugged at me. I pulled her close and kissed her as I had when we first met. My mind exploded at the platter of flavors my tongue encountered in her mouth. Unexpectedly, the mingled flavors of the dinner we had just enjoyed was reconfigured here in microcosm. "What do you feel?" she asked enveloping me in her food-perfumed breath. Intoxicated, I said, "Steak, medium rare and a buttered, baked potato." I expected this odd answer to end my reckless probing, but she only gazed into my eyes with a look of pure invitation. Effortlessly, I gathered all of her into my arms; she was as weightless as a five pound sack of potatoes. I took her to the large upper room furnished and prepared, ready for us. It was foolish. It was irresponsible. It was an act of raw emotion. But neither of us wanted to stop. For three years we had played by the rules, living delicate lives. We were hungry for each other. I tried to speak, but words were worthless. We spent the night wrapped together, discovering a forgotten knowledge of ourselves. With each deeper connection of our bodies, I tasted more. as I sucked the flavor out of every one of her pores, I could distinguish spices, yeast, humanity, and the unmistakable taste of something foreign and malevolent. She died with her lips on mine, my soul's last supper. I left the room with her body in it and escaped to the beach to watch the waves as they scoured the shore clean.
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I'll take my sky blackened with traces of blue at the edges,
no scent of coming rain in the air because the rain already falls. A symphony of pitters and patters punctuated by the steady claps of thunder. There I can stand, sullen, lost yet somehow unafraid of crackling electric light that could just as easily escort me to a grave. Yes, I like standing in the rain because no one can claim the tears I cry. No end nor beginning that any human heart can discern between the water nature and I weep in a joint union of all that a tear can signify. wake up, set the sun on fire
it's time to go out again out into the bright darkness of the world. slip your scarred skin, like armor forged from all the bled-letting of love's embrace, carefully over the tender bones. make up your best face, the one with a hint of indifference and interest mixed in equal part to hold on the cut-out smile. advertise yourself - here is a heart ready again for anguish and despair - make yourself known in all the right circles. open the door, put a foot in front of the other it's time to go out again out into the darkly lit brightness of her world. I saw you in shadow and light.
A vision to behold, a fiery light that lit up the night. In you mixed the aromas of things beyond my reason, things that excited the heart of me and made me long for a soul worthy of a path that would lead to your own. You viewed me. You evaluated, calculated the trajectory that would lead to a shared path. In a mere glance, you contrived the exact arc of such a path, how the fires would burn to cool and meld into either security or a burnout. Probable failure but worth the risk. Into your orbit, I fell. A steady rhythm of heart, soul and a meeting of minds. I could hear your heartbeat, as it fluttered just so often, a skip of a beat, what did it mean? Would you be mine for all time? I imagined a future ending in two souls entwined for all time. You heard a heartbeat, the pulling in and pushing out of blood. Skips are a myth contrived by overactive imaginations. Out of imagination we deceive ourselves into believing things that aren't real, you couldn't see souls and entwining was farfetched. We together moved mountains, whether by sheer brilliance or the steady work of a pebble at a time. Others heard music like none other in our wake and the steady beat of our hearts pumped out a perfume that made them long for another glance. I felt the demon after it held firmly to my soul, pulling me down into some purgatory of sadness and depression. How this shattered heart still pumped my life-force to keep going remains a mystery to me. Life, colorless and without hope propels me to the end. You reject the us as mythology, the realm of unicorns and gods that shower down on their subjects. Rational, cold and alone, you calculate, looking for the next arc, the next destination, vowing to be more logical in your next selection. He spoke to me with his eyes, soft and brown, a mixture of equal parts pride and pleading. He could only speak to me with his eyes because all I had of him was a picture. I couldn't get that look out of my eyes. I downloaded the picture to my computer. I would look at him again and again many times every day. I knew I needed him in my life. Was I ready though?
No, I hadn't seen a picture of my human soulmate, but it was a picture of my horse soulmate. The picture came from the CANTER (then West Viriginia) Mid-Atlantic site. I was getting ready to turn 30 and was feeling a huge hole in my soul. I had come to realize the previous year that part of my deep emptiness was that I had no horse in my life. I felt I was finally at a point financially that I could do right by a horse, so I had been looking that previous year, but had only seen one horse that piqued my interest When I called he had already been adopted. I was disappointed, but it turned out to be for a reason. The reason was Blue Blue Sea. The horse who spoke to my soul with his eyes. I had only clicked on his listing because he was a chestnut and he had Alysheba (ALYDAR) in his pedigree. It didn't hurt that he had Sea Hero, too, as I had been a fan for him in the 1993 run for the roses. Still, I had looked at other horses with Alydar's blood running through their veins and none of them were in my life. This one was different somehow. I have never felt a connection like that with any horse through just a picture. When I finally called, I was crestfallen to learn that there had been a lot of interest in him. They took my name, saying if I didn't hear back, it meant he had been sold. I kept his picture. I kept looking at it and wishing. I have no doubt that I would still have this picture if Blue Blue Sea had never come into my life. I went on with my life, looking at other horses, but always coming back to his picture. Two weeks later, I had all but given up on any chance of ever meeting Blue Blue Sea. To top it off, I had been sick the night before with an intestinal bug. I had spent most of that day in February sleeping and recovering. When the home phone rang, I almost didn't pick up, but I did check the caller ID. I recognized the name as the owner of the horse that had so captured my attention. I leapt to my feet and took the call. Blue Blue Sea had not sold. People had come to look at him but passed. I was going to meet him that Saturday! Friends told me - you know you will be bringing that horse home, right? I insisted I was only going to look, but my heart already knew they were right. Myself and another lady met him that Saturday. He was the horse we both wanted. I knew upon meeting him that the connection through the picture ran deep. The other woman could come right away with a trailer while I would need to make boarding and trailering arrangements. My heart sunk again, as I felt certain I would lose out on this horse who kept tugging at my heart. The owner met with both of us privately. He opted to sell Blue Blue Sea to me, even though I couldn't take him right away. My heart sang with joy. At the time, I wasn't overly aware of the deep spiritual nature of that connection, but looking back, I know that the Creator was at work here. I am a spiritual person. I do believe in a higher power, but I am not a disciple of any religion because I think we all have the story wrong, even me. We are after all, humans, and it's not in our nature to get things perfect. My connection to Blue Blue Sea started in that moment when I looked into those eyes in nothing more than a photograph. The fact that he didn't sell to any of the other many interested individuals is further proof. Even him going to me, who wasn't ready to bring him home, rather than the woman who was. I am sure she was a good individual and would make a great home for a horse, but the circumstances would not have been right for Blue Blue Sea, knowing his life story as I do now. I was the right home for Blue Blue Sea and he was the right horse for me. Many people told me as I struggled through another illness or issue with him that I saved his life or that he was lucky I owned him. That may be true, but my reply was and always will be, I was lucky to have him in my life. At a time when I was feeling lost and down, the perfect horse looked into my soul and saved me. |
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