Stolen

[Teresa]

I fell in love on a Sunday afternoon, maybe sooner when he opened his mouth with something daring, funny and brilliant, but the truth only caught in my throat after we said goodbye, when Resurrection Fern played on the radio for the first time. 

 

Maybe our souls were tapping out Morse code for centuries until finally, there we were, for one solid beat.

 

It was unsettling to meet the key that fits my locks, exhilarating in a pleasantly exhausting way, intimidating like a world larger than I knew existed, opened for the first time. 

 

Eventually fear settled to a pleasant hum, a recognition that this unexpected package of cells and spirit was home.

 

I could have made this up, created fantasy from a few sparks and bubbles only I could see, but that doesn't explain his voice still in my head, the essence of a comfortable wool blanket that smells like him.

 

If this is fantasy, it has stolen love's pattern, sound and rhythms, like the songs we play when we are alone. 

 

 

Edited version:

 

I fell in love on a Sunday afternoon, when he opened his mouth with something daring, funny and brilliant, but the truth only caught in my throat when we said goodbye, when Resurrection Fern played on the radio for the first time.

 

Maybe our souls were tapping out Morse code for centuries until finally, there we were, for one solid beat.

 

It was unsettling to meet the key that fits my locks, exhilarating in a pleasantly exhausting way, intimidating like a world larger than I knew existed, opened for the first time.

 

Eventually fear settled to a pleasant hum, a recognition that this unexpected package of cells and spirit was home.

 

I could have made this up, fantasy from a few sparks and bubbles, but that doesn't explain his voice still in my head, the essence of a comfortable wool blanket that smells like him.

 

If this is fantasy, it has stolen love's pattern, sound and rhythms, like songs we play alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Mike Handley]

Gorgeous, T. You deserve that key. I hope it finds you.

[Jenni Marie]

". . .our souls were tapping out Morse code. . ."

I love this.

[Simon Halliday]

echo Judy re Iron & Wine, ty.

[Judy Thompson]

yep.  good stuff, Teresa, and now Im hooked on Iron and Wine; 20 minutes ago I'd never heard of them.  Now I can't get that sound out of my head.

I also like the two versions, edited and original, together in the same post.  Im a process fanatic, and love seeing how something progresses to its final form. 

I"m familiar with that "fear settled to a pleasant hum", what a perfect description.

 

[Teresa]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2QyVfs5G2uA

 

Enjoy...

[Teresa]

@Simon ~ I agree with the "...on a Sunday afternoon, when he..." but I'm not sure about the latter suggestion because I wrote it that way the first time and it didn't seem right.  But I may make that change.  Regarding the Morse code sentence, it expressed what I wanted it to.  The "one solid beat" was of the heart, not a type of communication.  The "lock" came about because of something Richard Bach wrote once about meeting his soul mate, Leslie Parrish Bach (they're now divorced...ha) -- he wrote in The Bridge Across Forever, "A soul mate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks."  So see?  It was STOLEN...;-)  And I agree with you about the "created" and "only I could see".  Good editing.  I think I'll type the edited version beneath the original.

[Simon Halliday]

I like this a lot. The opening  and closing phrases are memorable, although perhaps: 'I fell in love on a Sunday afternoon, when he .....  ' to '.....and rhythms, like songs we play alone.'

The second line's idea of synchonization is lovely, but for me your wording  doesn't quite get to the real sense that at last the tap-tappings synchonize and become one.

I had some thoughts about line three, is the lock redundant?

Line five is almost perfect but I thought the 'created' and 'only I could see'  are unnecessary and detract from the rhythm of the words.

Overall it has a beautiful, almost lyrical, quality. And that's from a hardened cynic. Ha ha.

[Angela]

I like the way this acknowledges the fact that it does not have to be real to feel real, and sometimes it can feel more real than real when you are unsure.  Many of us wonder about that "one solid beat", I think.  What a great phrase - actually, each line was musical, like a lone cello.

[Bill Floyd]

Oh my God, this is breathtaking.  Makes my heart ramp up a few beats per second, especially when coupled with your close-up eye in the photo.  (Sighs, tries to shake it off.)

[Stephen Torelli]

A starry eyed and soothing account.