You blew into my life like the refreshing rain coming off the mountains, that rain that cools the hot air and my perspiring skin in summer time. You blew as a refreshing cool breeze and lifted up my heart, lifted up my hope for the possibility of soulful kinship, of soulful love.
I flew to you as a trapped bird in a cage, forgetting I had wings to soar across the terrain of love and companionship. I flew so briefly, but oh the vistas I could see, the places we could go!
My delight, my boy, my adventurer. You played with me throughout the day, tickled my fancy, made me laugh.
Now you have flown away, from my vision, from the sound of my voice that called you near.
And I have fallen, from the great, dizzying heights of happiness and hope. I have fallen to the earth, face on the ground, eating the dirt of my misplaced foolishness. I must stand, dust off these broken pieces of hope from my dazed soul. I must tell myself it was my imagination, my own misplaced vulnerable heart.
It is time to go back into the vault where I keep the treasures of me. I must seal myself in the vault, I must place my guardian in front of it to guard my precious soul.
They are waiting. Men standing in line, eagerly wanting a peak inside, wanting to play with me, delight in me, know me, and give to me.
You had the right combination inside this door, inside this chamber. You had the correct fitting keys that swiftly gained access to me.
They want the combination. They want inside my heart, my head, my body. No one is allowed yet. I have to clean up, gather these strewn treasures, wrapping my precious jewels back into their velvet cases, the ones I began to show you. I must gather the gold ingots, gather and lock away inside the shiny, cold, narrow drawers.
I have to wipe the tears from the floor, on all fours, wiping and drying, only to rewet the floor with more. Those shiny diamonds of my laughter, my joy, my fearless sense of adventure, must be swept up, gathered for another day.
I must remember who I really am, not lost in your eyes, but found in my own. I sit here knowing everything I saw in your face, heard in your voice, felt in your touch and thrilled in your adventure, are reflections of me. I am the delightful, I am the comforting voice, I am the playful partner, the adventuress, the one laughing and soothing.
You did not take my treasures, my jewels. You only looked at them briefly, shopping for your perfect fit. You did not place one upon your chest or clasp them about your pulsing wrists. You hurriedly pushed them aside. They are now in their steel boxes, The room is clean, and I sit looking at the locked boxes.
I hear them knocking outside the chamber door. They want to hear my voice, They want to come in and bring me out to play.
For now, I sit here, alone, in this cold, clean, barren room. Gathering who I am, gathering what I want, what I need.
They are knocking again. I hear a distinct one, different than the others. He has a certain lovely sound to his voice.
I’m going to sit here awhile, gather me as I put my arms around myself, before I stand, and open the door, and see what awaits outside of it.