Day Nine.<\/p>\n
\u05e0\u05d7\u05e9<\/p>\n
The sidewalk is lit like fairy circles under a full moon,
\nBut the spaces in between are darker than the deepest deluge.
\nIt is in this space, between the moment of whispered words
\nHeld in the bitterly cold night\u2019s breeze saying\u00a0Let there be light<\/i>;
\nThat I find myself staring at you.
\nMoving quickly by, briskly marching to the beat of an unknown cacophony
\nLike the heartbeat of a thunderbolt, your heel crushes the ground.
\nStep after step draws you closer to me.
\nI feel my earth quake and the air tremble as the space grows smaller
\nUntil you are right before me like a hurricane making ground.
\nThe tension in the air between us as the eyes of this storm
\nShare a sudden and incalculable gaze
\nYour eyes were the darkest shade of azul.
\nA storm brewing in them, that once released could never be stopped
\nI swear I could smell the scent of Petrichor on your breath.
\nThat moment in the eye of the storm where we passed one another
\nIn the darkest of spaces between the light of this earth
\nI knew you as the destroyer of all things the earth had made in me
\nI saw deep inside of you as you looked into me
\nI could see the smile in your eyes and the smirk on your lips
\nSomehow I always knew it would end like this.
\nWith the silence of a storm and a solemn shared stare,
\nAs the void of you, that claimed power over me, saw through my disguise
\nAnd knew only me; knew of the guilt in my heart,
\nand a forked tongue held behind clenched teeth.
\nThe words lingered there as well,
\nWithout ever sharing a word, our worlds where made whole
\nBringing back full circle where my beginning made their end.
\nOur eyes spoke of failures neither of us could forget.
\nYour eyes cast across that darkness and shook me to my core
\nAnd in that darkness the final sonnet of sorrow sung from the dust of me:
\nI am so sorry<\/i>.<\/p>\n
\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Day Nine. \u05e0\u05d7\u05e9 The sidewalk is lit like fairy circles under a full moon, But the spaces in between are darker than the deepest deluge. It is in this space, between the moment of whispered words Held in the bitterly cold night\u2019s breeze saying\u00a0Let there be light; That I find myself staring at you. Moving […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[3],"tags":[2094,2091,78,2096,2095,2093,2092,1048,2090],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4664"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4664"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4664\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4668,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4664\/revisions\/4668"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4664"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4664"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4664"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}