No End in Sight

The story never ended,
not while we still live.
While he still survived
and she moved on
and I was introduced.

I was introduced,
some angel
some being of the night.
Some memory of a time
that was so poison
that it was sweet
and the drug of that moment
could never
be reproduced.

Captured in tangled sheets
and the facade of brave
passion (perhaps foolish),
we drank down intoxicants.
Lust and fear and
hope and sadness rolled
into one glorious
experiment that thankfully
never went awry.

And I looked into his eyes,
his angel
his savior and
he looked into mine,
my muse,
my Icarus
and I don’t know what he understood
but my thoughts were clear.

I was a being of the sky
and sea.
He was a being of the land
and trees.
I was destined to fly away,
or so I thought.
He was destined to run,
or so he’d planned.

Until we came together
drinking each others sins
like fine wine and
this ghost fell to the tree tops
and that shadow rose to meet
and now we can see both
homes.
Both with eyes filled with hope.

Because that story never really ended.

Right, darling bat?
The bunny moved forward
and learned how to fly.