auroral perceptions

If you've ever wondered how I feel sometimes, listen to Tom Petty's "Free Falling." It's there, somewhere, in the graveled chorus. The yearning that begins to swell at the diaphragm and spreads slowly upward into the throat. Lingers on the tip of the tongue. Like the moments preceding release. Until I open my mouth and everything spills out into gigantic reflective pools around me.

are you awake?

I know the answer before he provides one. He's only just gotten to bed hours ago. There were friends over and late night drinking. He isn't angry. Sounds relieved to hear me on the other end, even though I've not said anything at all. He asks what is it that I want? Whispers it in a sleepy headed voice that I've grown to depend on. Like an invisible hand against my back that pulls me into the fold.

I needed your voice. Sing something.
What?
I don't know. Something soft and wonderful and lovely.
Shine on your light. Lead me to your home . . .
I love that song.
I know.
Though apartheid's a greater issue. I long to hear "I miss you"
He's getting into it now. Wailing D'Arby's words like a sanctuary.
All I know is I'm lonely
And I need to be with someone tonight

He sings other songs afterward. A few of his own. Plays me something new on the guitar. Tries a bit of the Commodores' "Easy." Even though I assure him that he's no Lionel Richie. Finishes with a sweet soft Foo Fighters' "Walking After You" before we say our good-byes and I love yous.