In the beginning there was naught.
A darkness left by a road too long and hard.
Then a voice spoke out from the black. A voice that called me back, day after day at setting of the sun, each time to where this tale was begun.
Upon the first I heard that voice and my tired heart stirred as dark was pushed back by light. I sought you out and was pleased by both your tone and sight.
Upon the second you said your name and there was life within the light that sought to multiply and be more than itself. A dusty hope I brought down from its high and hidden shelf.
Upon the third I saw you frown and knew that I had, dumbstruck, stared. A fool within your gaze, I hid my hope and prayed you hadn’t seen. I gaze upon the little lines of your face and ponder what each one means.
Upon the fourth I brought to you a glass, filled unto the brim and saw you, your knowing eyes lit by a mocking grin. I dared bring out my hope again and see if aught more might here begin.
Upon the fifth you told me little and much, of your friends and days spent in boredom and all things such. I know them all now and still your truth eludes my mind. I seek on lady, tis your own self that I would find.
Upon the sixth I asked if ever you’d worn a ring and when you answered with but another laugh I knew well that your path held as many faults and broken trails as mine.
Upon the seventh I dared to beg for a turn o’er the floor and begat your pearled smile and ringing smile once more. You dance with all the grace I knew you would, I’d fain have another if but dance again with my graceless self you could.
How many words need we speak lady? To conjure from the aether, to forge from spirit and steel, a knowing that be true, a bond that binds and heals.
Yet for all the seven days of words between us passed, I know little of yourself and I see you’d have it so. What secret game do you play? Perhaps by the next eve’ I’ll know.
Be well lady.
For now, to gentle sleep, I go.