I know something is coming. Something I cannot touch, something I cannot name, and finally, something I cannot evade. I retire my own name along with everything I think , makes me into who I am. I slowly peel away my identity, one facet at a time. The knowing warns me to leave behind my cataloged self, to step out from under the attributes I collected at length, and stuck to my mortal frame. Exposed flesh , and the tick of my heart, the slate not cleared, but placed at a distance to see and observe without engaging. When the previous establishment is removed, I commit that, which then appears to you. Now that knowing I cannot grasp , has grasped me and will not subside. Somewhere within I form the word „yes“, and lean back, falling, falling, surrendering absolutely. Then, a blindfolded man in uncharted waters, led on by no one and nothing, not vision nor sound, in all familiar ways completely lost , and still…regardless still, so very still, not by voice and certainly not by the rumbling soul – deeper, still.

Flushed by the appendix of this cherished life, emerald green is my color. Just my color  for tonight. I cling to it affectionately, but not in desperation, for I am a romantic. Tender is my touch as I orchestrate my every being to receive the iridescent light. An outbreak upon impact as the radiant complexion paints every part of me. I am the emerald in hue and passion, green my tongue, pressed against my teeth, green the hair stranded sparingly across my brow, and rushing through my veins

, green blood in haste to meet the pump and hurry the spread – summon the romantic, let him free to reveal the gems glistening in all corners of the world.

Straight-up, and never look down. I absentmindedly caress my crown; jewels are lost on me. I ponder more earnestly on the shape of my head. Easy in the absence of time, surely it has retired to bed. So, with time out of the way and my royal circlet slightly askew, I dwell on matters only my heart warrants safekeeping.

My heart speaks a truth, my tongue never will. Through the tiny keyhole I manage to scrape away a fragment of truth.  My fingers gently unfold the crease of integrity , and some part of me reads the dedication to life’s most simple revelation. Easily overlooked, the plain – like child’s play and two wooden sticks , now sword and lance. I cradle the sweet, sweet nectar, infusing all of me with vigor and might , slipping pouches of golden dust, sprinkled across my crown. I bathe my soul in the soothing hum, and hear the song, and sing the hymn, and sink into the chorus‘ chant. Drums beating and chimes in chambers rolling swift. I draw a blank in every attempt to form words with lips and hands. I cannot say – you will understand – we only share this truth in silent love.