Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Portrait of a Lady

"Meloncholia" Albrecht Durer, 1514 - Engraving

The rain came towards her at the moment her curls settle. Everything has a place, shoes in the closet, love in the living room, warmth in the kitchen, always in the bedroom. Everywhere truth in the air. She flies through memories and then realizes that they are past her. Today is another day of new beginnings. Waking up, brushing teeth in the shower, dress, smile, leave the house. Whatever comes next that makes change live. Her choices are not always choices in reality. Rather changes that aim at remind her to keep on moving with hope. Making happiness her religion. With a heart on fire burning in her chest that never rests. So much love to give, so much love to give without logical limit. All is love. She never knew how much she needed to be treated gently until her familiar bolted thunder at her foundation, even at her children. A broken heart and a broken home force a jiving step forward like a fumbling toddler. Her worth still fades in and out. She is not sure why love has come and gone yet she remains. Change has never been her forte, she prefers to lay in a shell with the things she holds dear. She forgets she is dear. The sound of so much love smashing into sea rocks, lathering all sins away with tears falling from salty eyes. Life is so sad, it makes her sorrow river deep, mountain high. Memories of a burgundy bike, paisley and an inability to provide an explanation of the reasons why she now felt melancholia.
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