Monday, October 3, 2011

Stormy Weather

In light of the sad clouds, the sullen, sunken leaves and drippy streets ... in light of a teary heart and damp skin, Billie casts me into the wind:

I think we can all do with a haunted love story on days like this:

Stormy weather. The skies filled with dissonant tears, finally bursting like an eroded pipe. You could almost taste the rust, see its carmine hues mixed in the dew drops ... or perhaps it was blood, trickling down the veins of the leaves ... or was it the veins in her wrist, over the faint pulse in her neck. She was mesmerized by the rain's ability to augment the sweet smell of decaying leaves mixed with earth, enhancing every separate strand of scent. As she listened to Billie Holiday's "Stormy Weather," she slowly moved forward and back on her old, wooden rocking chair, feeling each creak reverberate through the porch floorboards. It had been a long few days. Hell, it had been a long few years. Her own bones, still reasonably young, creaked with every movement, betraying the wears of stress and tension curled into the hollows of her marrow.

"Life is bare, gloom and mis'ry everywhere/Stormy weather/Just can't get my poorself together/I'm weary all the time/So weary all the time/When he went away, the blues walked in and met me/If he stays away, old rockin' chair will get me ..."

Tired, she felt so tired inside. Like she could never quite get enough sleep. As though the sleep she got never reached her insides, never put to rest her bones or settled her mind. Her dreamless nights never eased her heart or calmed her soul. It was this time of year she missed him most, when the veil was thinnest, when the moon was brimming. During most of those days, she hardly recognized her dark eyes in the mirror, searching for answers.

"All I do is pray the Lord above will let me walk in the sun once more/Can't go on, ev'ry thing I had is gone/Stormy weather ..."

But none of that mattered the moment the wind picked up around her, fluttering her dark tendrils, now streaked with a few silver strands. It filled her with his warm scent, pulsing her chair forward, lifting her to her bare feet, softly grinding the floorboards beneath them. Billie's quivering chords danced against her eardrums as she began to sway back and forth with him. His spirit dipping below her hips, wrapping around her back, along her spine, caressing her chin.

This cannot be ...

It flowed between her fingers and a tear rolled over her left cheek bone, gathering at her jawline. She felt the air grow concentrated, softly blowing against her skin, evaporating the remnants of her sorrow. Her body was gently pulled forward, before released into a twirl, her arm arched above her head. The stars began to shimmer in the distance as the crippled, stiff crimson and yellow leaves rustled along the worn porch steps and banister, adding extra rhythm to their dance. She felt her toes press against the aged floorboards as the damp sweet and salty fragrance of his skin enveloped her senses, puncturing her heart with familiar elation and deep melancholy. Suddenly the air shifted again as the melody slowly winded down.

"Stormy weather/Since my man and I ain't together/Keeps rainin' all the time ..."

She was swept forward again, her body in a slight backward bend held on the breeze. She closed her eyes to the moonlight, feeling the air press against her soft lips ... grazing her ear in a tender whisper, before vanishing on the wind.

She sank to her feet, letting another tear roll down. Only this time, it met its death ...

In the dimple of her smile.

~ C ~

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