My love

08:01. I wanted to write to you, to tell you how much I’ve missed you, it’s like when I thought I’d missed the silver-slivered moon last night, though I searched for him everywhere, and yet he was always there, just hidden from view, disappeared to a world different from and yet the same as my own… if you knew the words I have written but have not shown, and allah in your name. All in your name, running, while trying not to play games, yet in the trying, failing all the same… and I cried within me, for what had died within me, and I retreated within me, and finally went to sleep upon the midnight bell, hugging it for dear life as its chime swung across the blackened valley. And then you loved me so well… so well… so well…

And then this morning, waking upon the four-chime, singing to you and singing to you but in silence, only with my fingers like a prayer, and telling you everything I’d often said, but now would say again, now remembered.

And then, my love… and the kiddies are saying we must go, Mama, Mama, come on, we will be late; but I am standing in awe to see you there, revealed through the glass door, solid in the air between the tree and the Puy, like nothing I’d ever seen before, yet had seen time and time again, a simple confirmation of your existence; and our beings fused as one within the cosmos, ever rotating and revolving as in some heavy dance… you were nearly new, within the near-perfect darkness of you…

And I wanted so much to capture you, to own this vision of you forever; I held my camera before my eye, trying again and again, as though your existence depended on it, to hold you within the archives of this small and lonesome device… but each time I tried, you were but a blur of light, in the end of night… I had to give up, give over; only feel the swell of love within me, as the far-away clock woke sleepily, towards its soon-pilgrimage, towards the eighth bell….

My love. I have loved you, this day, so failingly, and yet, to the best of my ability, so well….

And yet, the day is early, yet…

And your chimes are ringing… and I feel them as though they are swelling within me,

so well, so well…





(08:28. Sitting in the van, outside the school gate, tapping, tapping, into this small and cold device… such a frost, and we were not late… time warms my hand… )


Nadine inhales & exhales words & images from current vantage point in Auvergne, France. Thank you for reading. ❤︎

8 thoughts on “My love

    1. That means a lot to me, thanks so very much, Matthew… 🙏❤︎
      Morning is the best time for me; I haven’t been using it well the past while though, until today. Then I didn’t want to stop… that’s always the way. :))


        1. Haha… a car’d work fine too. :)) I think it was the oddly early 04:00 wake-up time and subsequent purge-pages that were the real warm up… but the diesel heater definitely helps a tad, especially when the engine’s still cold. ;))

          Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes, the great CPU (“Creative Power of the Universe”) and the Present Moment combined, make a wonderful muse/spouse, when one is attentive to it/him/her/them… ;)) Thanks, dear Holodoc. I always appreciate your time here. <33


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