memento mori

There was something dangerous, sparkling in your eyes. You were hypnotic, like a deadly viper ready to suck the life from my body and soul. I was paralyzed by your poison, the second you touched my lips. I went under softly, quietly. I began to slip away.

There was a numb feeling that lingered heavy in my bones. It made my headache with the sticky sent of sandalwood and perspiration. You were worshipping me, and yet I was the sacrifice that preceded your descent, into the unfaithful underworld. No one knew what you were saying, behind your worlds… only me.

The haunting repeated nightly, the same ritual of sleep, and nightmare, and kiss and touch… and remembering again, and again. The things that could never change; your destiny. You were the one that said, love was the sin. I never questioned one word, nor did I deceive you.

I now know that the truth must be spoken, before the lie becomes too real. So many nights did we lie, never speaking a word of what weighed heavy on our hearts and minds. You were so cold and I was misguided. Two children should never be given a loaded gun, as we blew ourselves beyond recognition of the pure things we once were.

Do you still feel my heartbeat in your ear, as an imprint that will forever live in the scar tissue of your memories? I am not going anywhere, no matter how long it takes for you to get it right. I may change, but haven’t I always been a part of your metamorphosis? You couldn’t get beyond this shadow if you tried, and I thought you were the real king.

Renegades and thieves. They fought to get here to where I held tightly to your china doll eyes. I had everything in my hands, even if I had dropped it a time or two. The cracks were filled. A little memento mori. They can come and say their prayers at night, gently tucked away at my knees. Would you hear them?

The weights are still on me, the heaviness of your body, coiled around mine. I am suffocating. Then I wake up. I see soft, thick smoke, hanging over me in the nighttime. My eyes will never adjust to this madness. You can be a million miles away and even in the darkness of a room, with closed windows and doors… you find me. I lit that candle by my bedside, called on the Gods and dedicated it to your memory.

They dance with the dead sometimes, I hear… down there in the dungeon. You keep going there to repeat your pain. You used to dance with me. If the lips are red, does that mean they are alive? I have looked in the eyes of many dead men… and if you believe the lie just right… they can live again. You were the one dancing with a ghost. You can convalesce your life away.

I hear the moon will grow dark in a few days. So I have nailed all my sorrows and troubles to a board of the purest pine and I have wrapped it in black silk. I will pour vinegar and holy water over it and lay it to rest at the cross roads. Maybe the screaming will subside as Hecate swallows all my pain.

Don’t worry my little sleeping prince, my renegade… even if you are not the real king… I will still believe you. I may say one thing, but read the words behind my lips… that’s where you’ll find the truth. It taste like a bittersweet potion, belladonna and elecampane. Don’t forget me, lingering on your tongue and lips. I will flow into the well of your soul… someday my seeds will grow.

© Shaheen Miro 1/23/2011