She had been too much with herself for too long. She remembered all those years of nights spent sheltered by the warmth of another body, two forms fitting their angles and curves into the same space, under the same quilt, following the same moontides. Even after the inevitable discord of their diurnal interactions, the darkness enclosed them in a safe place.
Or so it seemed in retrospect. Their anatomies had long since diverged, inhabiting vastly different and irreconcilable dimensions. Where were those piercing chameleonlike eyes, the uncomfortably perceptive mind with its acerbic tongue? She missed them.
The flesh she inhabited now seemed to belong somewhere else. Why was she still trapped inside? Sleep had become a mystery, with a map that consistently confused her.
When she dreamed, she wandered a vast dark underground, always missing the train. One night a penumbra approached. It seemed to be human, someone she knew, and yet she could identify nothing about them. “You are alone.” It was not a question, and it was true.
Without warning, an extended and overpowering embrace filled all the empty silences of her being. She yielded to the invisibility of the voice which spoke a language she had once known but forgotten.
morning songs—shadows
of blue, a flash of red wings–
returning the light
Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write your own prose poem that, whatever title you choose to give it, is a story about the body. The poem should contain an encounter between two people, some spoken language, and at least one crisp visual image. I’ve also included the murisopsis prompt word yield.
K. 
Wow. That is profoundly beautiful and comforting imagery! I love this and the art that accompanies it, Kerfe.
Shabbat shalom,
David
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Thanks David. Shabbat shalom.
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Beautifully written, Kerfe, and moving too!
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Thanks Ingrid.
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This is gorgeous and moving. It seems both real and surreal, if that makes sense.
Wings, light, and circles–always, but comforting, too.
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Thanks Merril, it evolved from something quite different. But it feels true to me even if it’s not factual.
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You’re welcome. That’s how it works sometimes.
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Beautiful art to begin with, and then words too. Yield is the way to be.
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Thanks Manja. I think that’s true.
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So many perfect moments in this poem.
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Thank you Xan.
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Thank you for reminding me what April means (among other things). Unwittingly, I’ve written something similar. I like how yours ends in colour.
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Thanks Jane–I’ll go take a look.
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Some things we carry with us, always. Sometimes we need a reminder.
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That’s true Ken. Dreams are good places for finding them again.
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So moving. And the art, very beautiful.
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Love the art! The use of the silhouette from the face is clever and very effective! The poem just ties the whole thing together!! (Thanks so much for joining the fun.)
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Thanks Muri. I did a bunch of things inspired by Redon to use this month, and this one worked perfectly with the poem I wrote today. I’m sure I won’t always get such a great match.
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Beautifully written!
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Thanks Charlotte!
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Remember that old children’s show song, “Conjunction junction, what’s your function?” I love the journey she takes in the shadow world that shares with her what she needs to hear. Beautiful artwork to complement the story.
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Thanks Jade. This art was one of those ideas that worked out even better than I anticipated. I photographed it in a number of different ways, so it may show up again.
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You’re welcome and happy to hear it.
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