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The Meeting Plane

Two souls attempt to find a loving space within themselves and each other.
Picture: Alexis Fauvet

Two Lovers

There were two lovers in a field. Holding and wishing to be healed, their kisses turned each other into an eternal bliss. They forget their temporal discipline, and why they had emerged from their previous catalyst.

They needed to find their own reasons to exist. Instead they found material pleasures in each other’s arms. Finding new shapes within their shared dreams, they found a home they did not want to leave. It had enough space for two but before they settled, they had to taste their temporal fruits. They gathered a cosmos of strength, from their longings and desires and let each other go. Trusting that each would find their way home. They were swept into a realm where their hands were no longer intertwined. They fell from their castle of dreams and were swallowed by their fears and beliefs.

They were swept into a realm where their hands were no longer intertwined. They fell from their castle of dreams and were swallowed by their fears and beliefs.

One faced a mountain of gold that stood on volcanic land. It hurled hot rocks and golden prisms made of sand. The other a forest, filled with immortal holes. It smelt like the dreams of prisoners who had hailed sorrow as there tomorrow. They entered and obeyed their own sound, digging for new perceptions and gaining intuitions.

  The first lover listened to the harmony, that puffed and sneaked. It obeyed the whispers of the forest, like its own heartbeat. The holes below stretched to the unsightly dwellings of what did not speak but slithered in the bleakness of being incomplete.

Leaning and peering at what was underneath, the lover was amazed at the beauty. The roots gnarled, wanting to taste what slithered above their crown. The watery nectar of the lover was tempting the forest into a violent kiss. They wished to swallow it whole, feel it revel in the darkness of their rooted soul, a beautiful sight to nourish a daunting night.

    The lover grew to the caws and sub songs of what lived in the trees. It senses soared above and scourged with the roots below.

The souls beneath the forest floor were relentless in their need. They wanted to feel the lover- bleed.

The lover stayed true. It held the power of the florescent full moon with a steady calamity. Silent in its wants, it pushed energy to the roots below, purring promises of safer tomorrows. Grounded in the sorrow of earthly time; they remembered the promise of divine light.  Their lovers voice whispered them home and they were wrapped in the warm velvet, of a caring soul.

Silent in its wants, it pushed energy to the roots below, purring promises of safer tomorrows.

    The lover broke the silence between with the birds and the spirits, creating a conversation between existence and reality. A mysterious insanity that was vulnerable to bloom. They moved slowly through the darkness. Staring at what conversed below; in awe at the beauty, of grief unclothed.

The second lover stood at the edge of ash and gold. The dignity of the mountain was kin to a snake slithering on a lake of ice. A graceful ferocity that was transcendental in disguise.

The realm held a heavenly weight. The lover gave itself to the monsters of the sea, the spirits of the fire and the divinities of the sky. They tried to forget the lover they left behind.

     Blood rushed through their veins as they descended into the deepest roots of their volcanic mind. A tender heart with gentle needs, the lover was like the bee, taking nectar without destroying a petal in the breeze. The lover returned to their core, where space and time were vacuums with open doors. The lover stepped forth.  

The spirits of the mountain filled the lover with a sensual fright. They forget their name and their plight. They began to walk along the spiralling bridge; it was a kaleidoscope of all they held within.

They descended to their darkest rooms, holding onto the mountains truth. Their feet glided along the celestial confirmations, with an ethereal touch. Their eyes were clogged with dust. Eternal aspirations moved through the lover with comet speed. Muted by the divinity of the mountain, appearance became a fickle illusion of light. The lover stalked the witching fortresses of dimensions with watchful eyes.

   An essence penetrated the lover like knives of ice; it dissected its temporal disguise. The lover became a roaming mind. In their chambers they planted seeds of perpetual truth. A cemetery with an angelic grace became a garden of youth. The lover stood at the mountain peak engrossed by the booming horizon. Violet hues with golden tones expanded and expressed humility to the forest below and the fire beneath. The lover stood, quietly, in peace.

The lover became a roaming mind. In their chambers they planted seeds of perpetual truth. A cemetery with an angelic grace became a garden of youth.

   Yet a ghost of temporal proportions sang to be free. They breathed a silent promise into the clouds and hoped the breeze would return the key so they could dismount. A statuesque form made of two heads and three eyes was the lover’s new disguise. They closed their eyes and jumped from the heavenly view, landing into an embrace, that made them understand the beauty of two.

Twilight shined through their embrace and the evolving sunrise lay above there composing temporal threads. Their entwined souls had bloomed a new home. Their kisses were the cool breeze, pulsing alongside the lava lakes, bursting to be set free.

The lovers became growth and peace; always finding new ways to meet. Never leaving each others side, they found spirits and forms to soothe and grow. Each lover had passed through, to see that faith in the unknown was the only true home. 

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