Perspective is everything.
Well at least that’s what they say. Intellectually, I understand you’re 4,386 miles to my door if I were to travel east. If I get on a west-bound plane or boat and then catch a train, I can reach out to touch your face, though now 238,900 miles away.
But I don’t believe in all those miles. Time and distance have been known to lie when it comes to you. This is something you've taught me sharply. Well. Repetitively until the perspectives of time cracked and fell away on us.
Only just now I’d sat down to engage you by electronic finger-tipping my way to you via twitter. And even those nano seconds were mocked, because before I could put finger to atom ink I was suddenly aware of a rush of You about me.
~ Moving through my arms and hands, my fingers tingled and tasted of you. Coursing in light shaped like you ~
Light I could see with the inner eye and feel as an electric coil responds to heat.
And it isn't like you just walked into this room of mine so many miles away, it is more that you surfaced through my skin.
A welcome spectre. The Ghost of Christmas Present rides my flesh.
How strange how strange how strange.
There are no miles there are no miles there are no miles between us.
You raced inside me. Running through my halls and through my feet.
I am sure this form of Wonder is something we’ll wonder over and through again and again. Unrelenting marvels in these past few months have charged us with the re-shaping of our perspectives. It is in the extraordinary supernal experiences borne of knowing you, that the perspectives I’d held about Greenwich Mean Time and distance are shattered.
This space between us is now a room where certainties become myths.
Here is the difference between travel by stone wheel against whatever science may one day say outruns supersonic flight.
You travel to me through my own flesh and on my own heartbeat. I don’t know how this is possible and I really don’t want to know even if anyone could tell me how this has been done.
What I am left with is the realisation that Common Perspectives are skewed are linear, have no basis in where you lie. You lie closer than a friend, 'closer than a brother' because I have found you again and again as I find you today, within me.
Upon me.
I saw your face racing down and through me, on a silent golden wind. Wind that swiftly raised the fine hairs on the back of my arms and made my fingers bloom in heat.
Anyone in their right mind might be frightened by the things I experience with you. But I say ~
“Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his precious fruits.”
Song of Songs 4:16
I don’t believe in all those miles.
We are in ‘rooms’, adjacent. Time is when we meet in the middle.
There is between us a shared room, down the hallway into 1974.
We each have our own key, though this door is never locked.
And though you've so often come and gone as you willed, ever and again am I surprised
That
You
Can
Here lie arcane secrets. Love and lust are its keys.
I found this photo of a key the other day.
At the time I felt compelled to save it ~
though I was not working on anything requiring such an image.
I felt I'd seen it before. And indeed I have.
Here you go, I think this one's yours.