28 days being 21 – Feb (Morocco)

I missed you today especially today. When it’s bad I think it better you’re not here, but last night when I climbed out of the van that we hitchhiked a ride from at the train station, I didn’t notice that I jumped out on the wrong street because something made me pause and not call them back. Standing on the corner near a brick wall it was the moon that gave the only light on the street. A woman walking with her horse passed me but I heard absolute silence. Standing still and quiet, my eyes followed the palm tree up that I stood underneath. The breeze rolled my hair over my face so I pushed it away to look again at this massive palm tree. Although it was striking it seemed to ask me to look past it, to the sky where I saw stars. I did not notice them before, but now alone on the street I finally got it; that they were with me when I was with you as they will be no matter where I am or what I am to you. So I stared at the three stars. You know which ones. The three that sit in a row, 1, 2, 3. The only stars I would see some nights when I was 10 and standing on the balcony looking out on LA and nothing that I actually wanted to see. So instead, I looked up even when nothing moved me, not the sky, not the red sunsets, not even sometimes the three stars. But I saw them like I see some people now…the beautiful ones who walk around me and comfort me without knowing it. They were there when I forgot as they are still beautiful when I look up.

I wanted to stay hearing the wind rustling my palm tree and the water rolling over the shore on that entirely lost corner when this is what I saw…You were here behind where the palm tree stood. Forming around the palm tree, it became a garden that you wandered out of to hear the water and smell the breeze and see the moon light. Stepping out, I went looking for you. Hiding from the wind running through your skirt, you led your fingers through the orange shrub walking in the dark. I was with love, who has feet that smell of sea shells and orange blossom fingertips. I would know you anywhere. I reached out to touch your shoulder. Reached my hand out to touch your back but my dream escaped as quickly as it came, going down the street and past the corner. My heart grasped onto the ground, not wanting to walk away, but wanting also to see you again. You on this street where I could reach for your bones and this feeling that my finger couldn’t pin down, but only point to, this thing that escapes me like love, that makes love to you, doesn’t impose on you, doesn’t force you, but you submit.

I cried tonight as I walked through the most beautiful place in the world. I don’t want to want it to end but a part of me wants to see no more beauty because it hurts. I excused myself at dinner and went into the bathroom stall, closed the door, locked the latch, shut my eyes and began to pray. It wasn’t willed, it didn’t have a birth thought, but it rolled over my eyes, it perched on my tongue and skipped out of my lips singing a fully formed song to you. I prayed to you. I prayed that I would not disappoint you, that I would love you more then I love myself, and without despair and without fear I said aloud these words that came from a voice that never broke. I knew then what it felt like to talk to God, to place your love and faith in the unseen, making a path to you where I could touch your shoulder and whisper to your back as you fumble at the stove. I kissed your face and promised that I would love you and I will find you. Only then could I unlock and open the door.

When I tried to return to the table I almost fell. My body tipped to fall but the chairs saved me. They asked me if I was okay. I tried to explain that I was, I just love her. They looked at me, seeking out my eyes even though I looked down to hold it in, this weeping. Even as I write this I am curled in the corner of the room, I am listening to a man standing in my doorway. He is telling me that the heart always calls to God. That the heart calls out allah allah allah allah allah always. He placed his hand to his chest and beat it in and out saying that even when the body is ill and you lay out for the doctor, she will place her ear to your heart and hear the calling of Allah Allah Allah Allah Allah Allah Allah Allah Allah Allah. Ill and alone, my heart is beating out your name, calling for you, calling you always, wanting you before knowing it, wanting you before myself, beating beating beats of your name beneath my skin.

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