Venus

"'Twas brillig and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe
All mimsy were the borogoves
And the mome raths outgrabe"

Venus was rising in the early morning sky as I sat on your bed, feeling the coldness of the fresh air coming from the window. The sheets were smooth on my bare skin. I shivered. But not from the cold.

I looked at the sky outside, and tried to forget what happened. Tried to isolate myself from this confusion developing within ourselves. Enveloping us in a slowly-tightening web which will eventually prevent us from escaping from each other. I start it, true. And I decide when to end it, but in the middle, I lose it. Because I cannot concentrate on you.

I cuddled closer to you, and tried to sleep. Sleep and dream. Things stop for a while when we sleep. When we sleep, nothing happens between us. There is nothing to make this complicated situation more difficult, when we sleep.

But sleep is the one which brings us together again. After the coldness of the day, the indifference of the afternoon... In the night, we become the old me and you. Rebuilding, in our small way, our supposedly planned future. The wee hours of darkness is our twilight zone where what is real in the day can be dismissed as fiction. That is when our unconscious minds, our basal instincts, take over the formality of relationships. Eclipsing what was decided long ago.

Such things are to be left in the hands of gods. We are taking what we want, and we will pay for it. Eventually.

We can only see Venus during the dusk and the dawn, where the end of one leads to the beginning of another.

"But another what?", I ask myself.

I shift to the other side of the bed as dawn slowly lightened up our room.

"'Twas brillig and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe
All mimsy were the borogoves
And the mome raths outgrabe"

*Excerpt from Lewis Carrol's "Jabberwocky"