I love people who make me laugh. I honestly think it's the thing I like most, to laugh. It cures a multitude of ills. It's probably the most important thing in a person. Living is like tearing through a museum. Not until later do you really start absorbing what you saw, thinking about it, looking it up in a book, and remembering - because you can't take it in all at once. THE CHAMBERS: Written September 22, 2009 by Marini Barika Facey
I've always seen you through these windows, but now I have opened the windows of my soul to you. The eyes of my soul gaze, waiting for you... You've come! As calming as a breeze, as fierce as a wind, you've come... ...I can scarcely breathe. I glance into your eyes and see the journey you have taken. Your legs are covered in reddish clay. Sweat trickles down your brow, cascading down your burning, aching chest. I kiss the wetness of your chest hoping to heal the ache in you. You're a gentle breeze yet you are still a fierce wind! My lips tremble... up and down ...because of your wildly moving breath. I kiss the sweat off your brow and you lift me up and pull me closer to you. Red clay covers my legs and thighs. You carry me to your chambers! I am expectant and scared. No one has ever been allowed into the chambers of your heart... ...even fewer have ever made it past the gates of your eyes. Slowly, you lower me and my gown lifts and rises leaving my legs and thighs exposed. You lift my arms and gently remove my gown... We are silent but our gaze is violent... You shake the windows of my soul with passionate breath, thirst, and hunger. No wind has ever blown through before. Many have been but a whispering wind at my gates, but none have ever entered my soul... You bend down to take more mud of reddish hue off of your legs and rub it down my arms and across my chest. With your fingertips as the brush, you begin to paint on me with clay and sweat. As the moonlight moves across our faces, you lower me to the ground. Your breath speaks many unspoken words as it blows against my ears. The first and only words you utter are "come closer!" As you continue to move your paintbrush up and down my body, the red clay begins to harden... You lean over me and beads of sweat drip down my neck, sliding through every curve of my form and softens the clay. Your breath grows deeper, wilder! I close the gates of my eyes because no one else can come in! I close the windows of my soul to lock in this calming breeze... ...this fierce wind! I open my mouth and take in this wildly moving breath! This fierce and violent wind enters me and all that can be seen glistening in the moonlight is a raging river of reddish hue behind sealed chambers. |
“I am the most curious of all to see what will be the next thing that I will do.”
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