That Kind Of Night

We spoke about how time had changed us both. How, once, we were free and daring and gorgeous. How we were young. The laughter serving melody to the bittersweet harmony of time.

We pieced together memories from a fragment that I saved and a tatter that you still carry, a faded snapshot in my mind and a cracked portrait hung in yours. We washed ourselves in nostalgia like a baptism. Hallelujah.

We took turn giving guided tours of the time that had passed between way back and clear & present. We compared fractures and scars, victories and spoils of war. We played close but coy, at the onset. There is a rapport that is new, forming lush terra before our eyes…gardens all wet with rain.

And I will drink clear, clean water for to quench my thirst…

We listen, to each other and the hounds calling off in the distance. We listen through ears that have heard all type of promise and platitude, all manner of accusation and assurance. We listen past and hear each other. How our fractured souls still keep time, how hope still sings in hushed tones.

We begin to feel the room change, the light take a slightly different hue, we shiver with a sudden deep desire, never explored or even contemplated, except in youthful passing. I liked the shivers, it felt like fever.

We opened up to one another, each hurdle, each trigger, each unseen bruise. You don’t want to hurt me, and I ask you to tell me that we both matter…don’t we?

We collided like the crash of an angry symphony. We made fire and burned in a shared pyre to the gods that gave us this moment. I still burn from that, every night.

I found a sobriety in you, and I guess that’s the way I liked it. You began to cry as you laid down your arms and I cast off my monsters and we held each other naked and changed. We could never be the same.

And once through the crumbled walls we laid to waste, we began to revel, taking our sweet little time about it. Fuzzy and loud and slide dirty and rebellious, timelessly rebellious. Some 7th son shit, right there.

Not once surprised by the way it is, that moon rose and we set sail on our seas of innocence and heartbreak and hunger. As filthy as the sky above.

We lay upon the distant shore, beautiful. Broken. Wondering why this night? Why us, now? Why in the twilight?

I see your marble arch and your kitchen chair, did I outdraw you? Doves and victory and pleasing the gods. Hallelujah.

Yeah, that kind of night.

(Author note: Inspired by the music of Tom Jones, Nick Cave, Morphine, Amos Lee, Van Morrison, Placebo, The Cure, Sallie Ford, Linda Perry, Michael Hutchence, Warren Haynes and Leonard Cohen.)

4 thoughts on “That Kind Of Night

  1. Rushing my mind over that washboard of moments and milleniums … I can’t believe that music alone inspired such textures. Sure, they could have but if I listened to you read this aloud, I’m almost sure I’d hear the hitch of a woman in your countenance and rhythm…but that’s just me, making believe you have a heart that beats stronger than reason. I’ve also had wine and speak from another place we like to believe in. xo, J

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh, I’m definitely sure that if it came down to it – we’d both defend and retain that place with our lives – no questions asked. Don’t get me started on our rank and priveleges … I’m taking a sleeping pill to shut this mind down… I don’t have a club. lol Goodnight General

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Pingback: That Kind Of Night — An Undiscovered Muse | momentarylapseofsanity

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