MY MARIE CELESTE

I wish I could see you as clearly as this winter moon, rising slowly above the horizon, here on the far side of the world. I wonder - have you dared to brave the cold and look upon it as well?

Each passing day dulls the edges of my memory and I have implored the spirits of our ancestors return me to you!

I have carried out even the most exacting rites with unwavering precision. Each observance, every offering, has etched invisible marks upon my being. I am owed this chance to reunite with you - with my Lady Nocturne–my gossamer-veiled Priestess of Shade and Shadow.

I have earned my place by your side - to see once more the soft contour of your delicate silhouette, to feel the silk of your hair as it falls across pale shoulders. To gaze upon the emerald and sapphire adorned string of gold that hangs from your neck. To revel in the scent of lilac and lavender when we embrace. The esoteric joy we evoke from the sacred ceremonies. The quiet breath of your untroubled sleep even after the most obscene of sacraments.  Acts that bind us in darkness and sanctity, an ecstasy that will extend beyond mortality.

Yet, the voices that answer say I am being absurd! They accuse me of conjuring your perfection as an escape from my sins - a final grasp for absolution. In spite of them, I know that you are real. That your devotion is real.  That likewise, you have been flawless with your incantations.

And yet, as another night surrounds me, you become less of a memory and more like a dream.  I ask myself - has your faith always been an illusion?

a.e