Press Play, and read along to the words spoken by Alysia Harris. I Hope
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There will come a day when the fear of death will be the favored joke passed amongst corpses – and they’re already laughing. My love, please don’t be afraid, but there will come a day when field mice play in our empty sockets, when our bones become homes for living creatures other than our egos and when time will jostle our skeletons out of the composition that is me and you. And will write with us love letters that spell I owe you eternity. If we believe in life after death, then I often wonder why we assume the dead like coffins, when people were never meant to live in boxes. So I pray that our children will have the good sense to leave us a little wiggle room, leave us exposed like stray dogs in a thunderstorm. And I will hear the breeze but I will not know it as the breeze. And I will feel the rain but not know it as the rain. And I will behold the sky but not know it as the sky. Instead, I will hear the breeze and think it is your laugh returned into the hearth of my ear. And I will feel the rain and think that it is the pinprick of your kiss and when the rain is tender I will know that something has softened you and when the rain is violent I will know that something has shaken you. And, in this new found understanding, without eyes or ears or hands or lips, our bare bones will make love in the dirt; never knowing our nakedness. Imagine, the wind coursing through a calligraphy of weeds, in our disrepair we have grown gardens of ourselves, sprouts of curious grass shooting from our eye sockets. Our knuckles, hard, smooth skipping stones meant for children’s play. And the devilish sun, picking its way through your missing teeth and neither of us can keep from smiling these days. And the days go unnoticed and the nights go unslept and we talk with our souls through the holes in our ribs where the organs once sat. Imagine, your skull and mine both reduced to grins. Both washed clean of our sins and our skins, going young again, forgetting why we ever wrinkled or why we ever furrowed our brow with the plow of anger. Become dust with me, insignificant and everywhere for I will love you even after your marrow has become a whisper and your bones; nothing but the snickering of gravel. Let us soak in the spaces our shadows left behind. Your skeleton, laced with mine, I will tie your soul to my ankles and know what it is like to step into a dream. And you will try on my backbone and see how bad it hurt the day you said you were calling it quits. I don’t remember why you left or why you came back. I don’t know how many years have passed, I’m not really sure years passed at all. All I know is the rain falls; you kiss me like a rain fall. The sun, it bleaches us clear and every day is a romance. All this to say; we are already laughing. There is a wedding of earthworms and pebbles waiting when our tuxedo skeletons no longer fit. There is a place for our faces to lie planted beside, forever smiling. There exists a place where we can still be in love. There exists a place where we can be still and in love. Just two gentle skulls.
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