I am not an empty paper,
nor am I a clean slate. I am all of that which happened, all of that now broken and torn. And hollow as this heart might be, it is mine and the pain belongs to me. All of this is for that fleeting, bitter moment when your eyes locked on mine. And all that is, and all that will be, wither away at your feet. Time, time is not my hero. Time, time is a silent thief that walks the rooftops at night. I am but flickering thought, a brief passing of light. I am the sound of doves leaving, or the gleam of the butterfly's breath. All of this, and more.
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Att väga en själ
görs med vågskålar av dimma och det finaste urverk. Att väga en själ är att fånga ljuset från dagsländans vingar och månens skugga Att väga en själ är densiteten av interstellär rymd och svarta hål. Att väga en själ är att resa i evigheten och en kort sekund. Vem kan väga en själ? Lockad av skuggan. smekt av djupets mörka kyla.
Som en mal mot hettan av ditt förbrännande jag. Flammande himlar bleknar till ögats ljusa blå. Sjung mig, bränn min skugga. Skär mig från den värld där dina händer inte håller mina andetag. Dina armar är mörker och ljus. Så bind mig där natten vandrar genom långa hallar. Mitt hjärta dansar i takten av ditt. Vibrerar i ekot av den ton som är du. I tomma salar skrider morgonen, så blek som månskärans avtagande leende. Viska mig hel. I love you.
You, in all the ways that make you. In all the little things, and the way that you breath. I love you. As you stumble, in your anger and in your laughs. I love you, so I will step away, for it is you. And I will not be the one, you will never wake with me. I will never be the one that holds you as life rages. But I will pray and I will hope and I will wish for your happiness, that you are safe. I love you. Natten vilar här.
Mellan ljus och mörker är jag bara skuggor. Allt jag är, reflektioner av rörelser hos andra. I det blå morgonljuset vilar natten sina vingar. Viker in sig i mig, själv. Koltrastsång och hjärtslag. Kommer skymning, kommer månglans och stjärnstoft. Vila nu. Undan brännande sol och starka strålar. Vila du. Blod av mitt
blod. Själ av min själ. Stämma i min sång. Dina rötter går djupt. Så sträcka dina armar, mot stjärnorna, mot evigheten. She was surprised at the effect he still had on her as she looked up at him through the crowd. His lean frame straight as a rod as he stood as still as a statue. His skin was still that pale, almost shimmering mother of pearl that she had adored when they were children. But the eyes that once had held both joy and doubt now had turned into steely blue conviction.
He was standing exactly in the place that the informant had said he would, which meant that she could continue as planned. She turned away from him and started to make her way back through the crowd, swaying with the movement of this huge mass of people as she moved toward the left side of the plaza. This place was so different from the one where she had last seen him. The sun shone bright above her and the heat made the air dance off the buildings surrounding this open space. Everything was already in the right place and she had time to enjoy this short interval of peace. She bought a fruit in one of the stalls, just like an ordinary person. For a moment she let her mind mull over how things might have turned out if this counter revolution hadn't taken place. Would they have been together, or would his father have forced them apart? They had grown up together in a place where the sun rarely made an appearance and the land was covered in water and marshes. He was one year older than her, but so skinny that he seemed younger. This, and the fact that his only real friend was a girl, made him an easy target at the academy. That was until she started her first year, quickly rising through the courses as one of the most ferocious fighters of her group. She made everyone pay who dared to insult him. His father pushed him harder than anyone else, making him work twice as hard. With time he grew, still lean but tough as nails and never holding back. They were a formidable team, ruthless and inseparable. One day he would be the ruler of it all and she would stand right behind him as his most loyal subject, always faithful and never faltering. Both of them, who once had been social outcasts, would be at the head of the most powerful forces in the empire. But things had changed, there was civil unrest and a new power was rising quickly. Her father, who never had shown any disloyalty to their government now openly supported this new fraction and was taken away, never to be seen again. As the daughter of a dissident she was once again the social outcast. All of a sudden there was no more academy and her other half, her fiery friend, was gone from her life. Soon after this he and his father disappeared, moved to another location far away. The new republic replaced the empire and she was once again back at the academy, learning new things and new ways. There were rumours of a militia forming on the outskirts of the republic, trained and led by the father of her former best friend. But they were not a real threat and were left to do as they pleased. ... A tap on her shoulder brought her out of her reverie and back to the present. "All civilians are to leave the plaza!" She never could get over the ugly and outdated armour of these infantry soldiers. Their helmets distorting their voices and making them all look like puppets. She followed the others through the winding streets and then back to the place that she had prepared for today. This had once been some sort of factory, but today it was being used as a storage facility for these counter revolutionaries. Security had been surprisingly low, probably due to the fact that there were mostly parts of old machinery being kept here. She made the dusty climb to the ceiling in a couple of minutes. And there it was her choice of weaponry for this mission. The mission was important and carried a lot of risk for those behind it. Because of this she had travelled here under her real name, the one given to her in that far away place. She only had knowledge of her own task this day. Perhaps there was only her, then again there could be many of them with their own specific sets of instructions. This way, no matter what happened, other parts of the operation would not be at risk. She had rented her lodgings and paid for them with currency earned a long time ago. For the past week she had followed the normal routes for tourists, picking up the disassembled parts of her weapon at different locations around the city. Two nights ago she had reassembled it and last night she had brought it here. It had taken her two hours to bring it up here, mounting it and then carefully aiming it. All she needed to do today was to wait. Slowly she crawled forward to look out over the now empty plaza. If their intelligence reports were correct it would soon fill up with troops ready to be transported to the front. She inched back and placed herself in position to use her weapon. With a sigh she pressed the button that would bring this evil piece of machinery from a dark past back to life. There was only one of them left, as far as anyone knew. When this mission was over, none would remain. She thought of him then, up on that platform, wearing the same sort of uniform as the last time she had seen him. That memory would never fade; it was the last thing she thought of as she fell asleep at night. ... It had been in her last year at the academy. She had just finished a brutal field exercise and was on her way back to her own quarters, covered in mud and the rain pouring down as usual, when she thought she heard someone calling her name. There had been rumours of officers from that outer rim militia being here, and she had secretly hoped that he would be among them. But despite her best efforts she had not been able to find out if there was actually any truth to it. As she turned around she saw a group of people dressed in black uniforms heading up one of the side alleys. One of them broke free and came her way. She just couldn't believe her eyes, it was him. She barely noticed the rain or the cold as she caught a glimpse of his face. Slowly she lifted her hand in the same wave she had when they were children, feeling both foolish and elated at the same time. His face had become harder as he grew into the man now standing in front of her. But there were still traces of the boy she once knew. "You still a lousy shot?" he asked, giving her a small and crooked smile. With it his eyes changed from steel to that of those rare blue skies you sometimes saw during the summer. All of a sudden she became very much aware of the downpour, and her muddy attire. She mentally shrugged and slapped him on the shoulder. "Let's get out of the rain, my quarters are just over there" she said, gesturing to a door only a few steps away. She started towards it, hoping that he would follow her there. She unlocked the door and took one step back to let him in. He had to bow his head slightly as passed through the doorway and she realised how tall he had grown. "Ah, the humble lodgings of a cadet." There was a slight hint of a laugh to his voice as he said it. "Well, you know how it is. You don't actually get to spend a whole lot of time in here really." She managed to struggle out of her muddy and wet parka, hanging it on a hook at the back of the door. When she turned back he had removed that small, ugly hat that seemed to come with an officer's uniform, no matter your affiliation. He looked utterly lost standing by the table in what was essentially both her kitchen and her bedroom. He was looking at her meagre belongings. "You certainly seem to keep things very organised" he said, pulling his free hand through his hair. For some reason that remark made her extremely annoyed. "Off course I do! I'm a freaking cadet!" she blurted out. "Well, I... I.." he stuttered. " I didn't mean.." She had hurt him, she could tell by the slight change in his posture. This had always been their problem, two people proud as hell, never admitting to being wrong. In a few seconds he was going to shut her off and leave, this could not be allowed to happen. Not now, she had finally found him again. "I'm sorry" she said and stepped closer to him. Water was dripping from his strawberry blond hair and running down his cheek. Slowly she lifted her hand and wiped the water from his face, letting her thumb run along his cheekbone. He just froze, searching her eyes for answers to questions asked long ago. Gently she pulled his face to hers and kissed him. It was a light kiss. But one filled with the years that she had longed for him, with all the joy that he had brought her as a child and with the feeling that awoke in her now that she saw him as a man. For a second she feared that he would simply bolt right out of the door and away from her forever. But then his lips softened against hers, moved with hers and her heart caught fire. She could feel his arms circling her, gently drawing her closer to him. He had stayed the night with her in her small bed. As she woke up to the pale light of dawn, he was gone. There was a note on the table. She had kept it with her from then on, carefully unfolding it every night and putting it back again. ... She placed the charges, one at the mount of her weapon and one at her sternum. Then she listened to the low hum of the disruptor as it cycled up to fully functional. The distant thunder of a thousand marching feet told her that the troops were arriving, on time. A brief glimpse through the scope showed him still up there. "No salutes for you" she thought. Despite all the truly evil things he had done, she still loved that young man he once had been. You should be with someone you love when you die. The silence of the wicked thing in her hands told her that it was time. She set the charges for ninety seconds, took a long look at him and hoped against all the evidence that they would somehow find their way back to one another at the other side of this. Then she did what he had taught her so long ago. She felt the world around her, the wind as it moved, the heat coming off the building and the vibrations of those marching feet. She took one deep breath, felt her heart beating and took joy in that. She let the voice of that boy long gone guide her through her final steps. Watch your target, his eyes still so blue. Keep your aim, that stern face. Exhale. Pull the trigger. |
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Både prosa och lyrik Arkiv
Oktober 2017
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