Marlen Komar Famous Quotes
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You know what I love? The spaces between I love you. The tap of your fork against the plate and how my cup of wine clicks against our table. The scratchy voice coming from the radio in the other room. The quiet sound of your hand reaching across the table and whispering over mine. How your voice sounds like your mouth on the back of my neck. The soft murmur of our easy conversation.
Between these quiet Tuesday night routines, following every comma and right after every pause for breath, is I, love, and you. In the middle of every I love you is a sink full of dishes, whisper of socked feet tangled in white sheets, and gentle kisses against curved cheeks. We lyric ourselves into the laundry that needs to be finished, into the ends of every smile that follows me repeating your name. We write ourselves into the grocery bags we need to carry, the cracks running up our rented walls, the sides of the bed we choose to drag up the sails of heavy eyed dreams.
Like the spaces between our fingers, in the spaces between I, love, and you, we wait.
The in-betweens have always been my favorite.
And me, standing under the splintered night,
catching fractured glimpses into the black behind the black,
hearing the prayers of stars, the angry whispers of the dark summer night.
Its voice cracks,
on your name.
My eyes close,
on your name.
The stars, like the hollow eyes of a god forgotten, marry the sadness of the exhausted hour and inspire a little chaos, a little gentleness, to those below.
I look up at the sky and see everything I've ever lost,
waiting for me.
And as I bring my hands to my face, try to catch my breath, inhale the promises of the song you took away from me, I say it again. I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay. I'm okay. I'll be, okay.
You're more to me than I let you see. And I, I'm less to you than I'm willing to believe.
Speak to the breeze cautiously during those lonely summer nights.
If you stand right at the edge of the night sky, some place where one o'clock leaves to meet two, the breeze will carry your words up to the stars. And they'll swallow your secrets until its time to hand them over to the truths in the sky- the ones that draw maps in the black.
They carve their answers into the backs of my hands, the grooves of the words running deep in my palms.
