The Second Time

7 (pt. iii)

A/N: For the same person, for the same reasons.

("Favorite Record" is on the right -- take a listen.)

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You make me want to look up.

You make me want to take everything I've ever known about myself and let it float upward with the breeze and be taken to wherever it may land. I want it to soar away so that I can forget myself and the ashes weighing in on me and let you set me free.

I feel as though I am enveloped in a blanket of black and white and gray, of monotony and the mundane, but that you are the motivation for me to cut through the flimsy cardboard surrounding me and look up, look up at your color and your light.

On the errant days that the shadows creep up from behind you and cast darkness on your face, the clouds roll in on us all and bathe the world in a muted white, a dim and melancholy sense of silence and isolation. But you rid yourself of the shadows and throw off the darkness, and you are simplicity and truth and the light breaking through the black and white and gray, coloring everything you touch with gold.

You animate the world around you and set it to music; you create something that is simultaneously all your own and that is for others to share in wth you. Those who manage to read into your light are the lucky ones.

There are those who do not understand; there are those who do not want to understand. None are relevant. Because when you look at me with your soft eyes and crooked smile, and when you brush against my arm with tentative fingers and speak in your wavering voice, the happiness that blooms across my face is made of static electricity, with nothing but the way my being hums to life, to the beat of your music.

Around me is the black and white and gray. You transcend it all.