the want

There are words I would whisper, as if you were near. There are things I would say, mingling wishes with your flesh and blood. The night bends around every opposition. The night abides every twist and turn. The wind carries my breath as it extinguishes my voice. It wanders until the words are lost forever. Only the want left from my breath remains.

It falls to you to listen, just as it falls to your blood to find the flow. This tide is immeasurable. This tide is lost to the stars and the kindling crackling beneath your feet. Twigs that shatter, small bones that you tread into oblivion, walking too far into the night. The air is full of hauntings and gleanings. The air is all the wishes ever made, bled into one. It is up to you to heed the warnings. It is up to you to wade into the flood of ache and need, abandoning every breath to the hunger that would swallow you whole. The choice glitters in the starlight. The choice sings in your bones.

My voice is fresh from oblivion. My voice is soundless and hollow, full of the unsaid and the never meant. I am long gone from anywhere you might find me. The loitering near your lips, the lingering in your blood. The grapes long lost from the vine, giving license to that fullness of the wine. The path long subsided into the wilderness, offering home to the one submitted to this loss. The wind falls down, racing past your questions, smoothing through your hair. The world long lost to miracles, offering this much magic still.