There are some nights I dream of reconciliation. Brilliant. Reconciliation. Fireworks. Shooting stars. Crystal clear waters. Sweet embraces. Wealth in the healthiest of forms.

Running. Hand in hand. Emracing. Kissing.

There are some days my heart cascades and descends to the floor when I see him. Illusion. Delusion? Dream?

Husband? Soulmate? Twin Flame? Was it all just a figment when she cornered me on the dock and said, “Tell you husband what it’s like to be home?” She was blind. But her third eye was open as the door that leads us there.

There are some nights where I chase him down wandering stairs, where we fall into heaps of knocking bones and fleshy hearts interweaving into a dance between two energetic stars, dying with every beat.

There are some nights he hushes me, softly pinching my lips as I scream to his mates, “I didn’t mean to rush the stage!” Grandmom’s necklace laced my chest as we met in the pews. She had passed years before, but still, she was aware that this was a gift.

There are nights where he asks me for a date or two, selects the finest whip and pulls up into the alley where I had lived for years, laying amongst dealers and rehabilitated sinners who had seen the light.

This wasn’t my fault. I didn’t ask for this. He swept in dreams, rescuing me from locked rooms filled with books. Research. Portfolios. Sketchpads. Always saying, “Hey,” after his grand entrance.

There was a key outside the library door that was tied to string and hung from a tower in the midst of the storm. I left them all to grab it. My curiosity was my strength. My pride was my downfall.

Grasping the key, soaked to the core, I walked back in where they pulled the only empty seat left next to him who was at the head of the table. Always saying, “Hey,” after my grand entrance.

In this illusion he busted forth from his desk, with tears in his eyes and terrifying pride in his throat, “She’s discovered the key to the Universe!” I snapped ’round to see him dart, “I’m so happy I could cry.”

No. You don’t understand. That was for me to hear and for me to understand.

Even when he’s not seen, I drove ’round the curves in the road, blasting whatever the Universe started to play. “We’re goin’ to the chapel and we’re gonna get married.”

Pulling into our parking lot, I slice through space with no one in sight, blasting the next, “We are the Champions!” Next to our window, he left a letter. Two people ballroom dancing to my tunes.

I waved and bit my lips tight, welling up with tears as I drove home to the place where I could lie my head and escape the dogs howling at the door. “Leave the light on,” he’d say.

So I did.

Like a bear held captive, I’d rip them to shreds with my bare hands. ‘Til their hearts bled through and overflowed on stage where we met.

Curtains close and we embrace for last call, “Hey.”


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