Silver Girl

I can’t sleep,
I need to be awake.

My ears are too busy listening in to midnight as she sings her song with a silver tongue crafted for words of silence. And those very crumbles of quiet tumble into my ear waking me up as they continue to flood the place filling my entire room while she steps in through my window. I can feel my hart hitting the floorboards of my chest harder for each step she takes closer to me.

The full moon rises as she takes her first step into my bed crawling closer towards me with every hour.

And every minute seams to go by in a second watching her dance across my bed sheets drawing me closer, then she leans in towards me and grants me a single kiss before slowly laying down on my chest like a leaf continuously crossing its own path, slowly sailing downwards to the ground on the small breath of air left by the wind jet to be put to rest by the emptiness left at play.

In troubles come what may but in midnight I am free of concern.

Then before falling asleep with me she opens her dress and cover us both in her silver veil embracing me wholly like the sun and the trees never could. Her arms wrapping around me like the veins of an oak wrap around a source of nourishment, like she needs me as much as I need her. And before the last blink of our eyes she weaves out of my hart’s strings a pencil of my infinite trust. One that she uses to make my dreams like a painting, ink drowning my soul in an ocean of wonder.

As I draw my last breath of conscious air I feel my own heartbeat being put to rest like a locomotive engine arriving at its last destination, calmly it trusts the presence of midnight, childishly so, as if to ascribe to it the virtues of my own mother. And out of the silence being put across my heart I can finally hear her heartbeat, for the first time. Beating away in her chest, a confident thump like a soft knock on my door. Going stronger than ever and every beat not falling and rising like the troubles of the world but going relentlessly, not losing hope.

Finally I can sleep, and early in the morning I wake up before the sun to say goodbye to midnight as she drowns herself in the horizon sea, behind a full moon that’s slowly losing its silver glow as the lady sails over the distant sky, away from me. To go sleep next to someone else, and to take my heart with her when she does.

Though the stars are still there I look up at them no longer in wonder because they have lost their glow like the sun has burnt away their silver veils in preparation for the morning.

It is just the moon and they are just stars but towards that distant edge of world, where the sky mounts the earth the ocean waves are hiding the fading footprints of a silver girl I once met in a dream, dancing on the other side of the ocean. As i long to one day let my lips brush against hers. In a movement more like art then any painting or picture. In faint, quick strokes like a rough sketch, a suggesting line that says a little to much and still not quite enough.

A wordless conversation drawn with my brittle lips on on that silky canvas, her silver skin. Where every meeting of our eyes say more then the thousand talks that came before. Where i get to explore her body like pioneer on the mountain tops of his greatest journey jet, and all while somehow learning more about the pretty thoughts that have been laying asleep inside her mind. the sounds she makes now tell me more about what she feels then any of the sounds my ears have caught before. even when these aren’t structured in the order of language. Not strictly so, anyway. though one could argue.

But however, one hardly has time for argument when one is busy being high on love. these are the passing stories that feel as clear and real even when chiseled into memory. And I will repeat them over and over as she sails away on the other side of the sea, looking for her next lover and cheating on him with my dreams. And though I will accept her again tonight there are simply to many hours in the day and every minute she spends with someone else is another needle thrusting through my heart. The waking hours become my nightmare and I long for the sun to die. As I strangle the day and rage against the blue sky. Night will come again, and once again, I will live.

I can’t be awake,
I need to sleep.

2 thoughts on “Silver Girl

    1. When i write these poems i tend to write at least two things at the same time. using words and sentences that are vague enough to mean two things. you are quite right that the silver girl is in fact a symbolization of the magic in the silence of the night. but in fact the inspiration for the silver girl was given to me by this girl i know. and allot of the symbolism owes its origin to her. i suppose that writing about my feelings for another person under the alibi of writing about something far less personal is a way of saying what i feel without really saying it. Because allot of people, especially people that know me and might recognize the references to my personal life might wonder if they know what i am talking about. and they might still. but even so since its a poem that was written with the potential for several meanings i have plausible deniability. its true meaning is firmly in my control. there is definitely some truth to your hypothesis. but its not the entire story. but also keep in mind that even though this poem has some personal significance to me its also a fairly old one, if you have any other questions, even personal once i am open to answer. thank you for reading though. You have a keen eye.


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