Sun is a friend, I know her quite well
But it’s the moon who comes to sit with me in the abyss
Who waits to meet my gaze, even when I look away
She says ‘tell me everything’ and when I am done
She says ‘I was there, I have memories too’
‘…Of merry go rounds and fires and fires
And stones thrown on glass and cracking and cracking
And moments of bliss, and rising and rising
Tears of fear and falling and falling…’
‘Tell me the truth’ I ask her at last
‘Does the fire consume, does the glass break?
Does the rise fall…does the dream end?’
She meets my gaze and says to me
‘ In dreams we are the truest we can ever be’
I say ‘When I wake up,where do I go?’
‘Here next to me’ she whispers to me…
‘Here next to me, I’ll be as broken as you,
And you, like me, will always rise.’
Portraits in Letter 