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Midnight Cleansing

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It’s a cloudy blue night, and the blue sky is old and exhausted, saddened by the brushed flour of clouds that hide the sky’s masterpiece, its pride, the yellow harvest moon. Her outline is seen behind translucent clouds and black trees, surrounded by a crown of wasted rainbow haze, like the colors that dully shine on oil in a parking lot. The moon stares at me, untouched, taking every notice of me as I walked through other yards. I walk slowly, like a corpse that has yet to fall dead. I can’t feel anything but the air that brushes everything off my face and leaves me feeling so alone, and so uncovered.
Kneeling between two houses, both with their lights shut off, and their occupants shut down, I close my eyes and reopen, waiting for any acknowledgement from her, from anyone. Her face appears to me with no emotion. So I speak. I pray for guidance to get me through, just this one cloudy night, so that I may live, even if scarred on the other side, in another life, with a chance for returning love. The tears come inching, hesitating, and precious, climbing to the tops of my eyes, cascading down like a waterfall when they gather enough courage to dive. They cleanse my thoughts with water and salt. Rising, reborn, as the blood regains flow, I am alive again. I look to her face, and she is clear, and the clouds have washed away.




-7/17/08





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