“Tell me a secret”? Her head bobs, blonde hair, splashing covering her left blue eye as she rolls toward me. Her right eye glistens, curiosity, yet searching looking for approval. “You should tell me one”, I blurt out, well aware she holds the power here. “Yeah, you should tell me one”, I’m not sure but I think my hazel eyes are clashing with her one transparent eye. We stare each other down for a moment, the leaves casting wayward shadows all around us, then she shakes her head, her hair flopping backwards revealing the full glory of her face, and she smiles. “Maybe some other day”, she says, “maybe somewhere else”.
I think the world has stopped in a space and time, and an echo moves from the past of rhyme, I think she comes to me, by moons and charts to spill her secrets spill them in the dark. Through a time well planned, through a glass that shatters ever wanting, come her body ever vaulting, to a place our childhood planned. A grace our eyes past scanned. Who are we to say, what takes place today, who are we to say what takes place in play. Have I told you that I loved you as the stars go by, circulating effervescence in this lazy sky. For, forever, for a long time you will be only mine, it’s the secret of my boyhood mind. It’s the secret of my boyhood mind.
Change it happens, as our face draws lines, difference applies when pain in life arrives, there or forward when a rule goes by, test inordinate of a test life supplies. Oh my friend I fly into the sky, your bird of understanding, days gone by. So now my speed increases with what the past supplies. I am falling faster, and you recognize. Secrets open from my boyhood den, mixed with thunder, of what could have been. There you see him by that tree you love, laying staring not understanding love. I have stepped through tasted rime so sweet, somewhere else has called to bring our time complete. Tell me of the secret you possess, tasting magic of my hearts unrest. Place your words of one or two and then repeat. For my boyhood I will find some rest, in my conscience my disturbance will be suppressed. Tell me secrets of what you have known, I’ll turn my hazel eyes and let you go home. Let you go home.
We stare each other down for a moment, the leaves casting wayward shadows all around us, then she shakes her head, her hair flopping backwards revealing the full glory of her face, and she smiles. “Maybe some other day”, she says, “maybe somewhere else”. – 05.26.2015 – דָּנִיֵּאל