HARAKIRI

This second that you chose to plant the sword of your retreat is one with you. Your execution has ripened, your breath is with the spirits, your end--- winds me back to the beginning.

the stage has been set for my surrender. everything is perfect. my lithe body is draped with my best garb --- a silk kimono weaved from threads of acceptance, sleeve adorned with my heart --- that shall be but a memory after the act.

The stage has been set.

the carpet upon which i shall fall is immaculate and creaseless and shall later on be stained with the glistening tears of the midnight sky on my head. on the heartbeats of my skin, i splashed the essence of gardens, so that i will be remembered as a hint of fragrance with the whispers of the wind.

While you're down and eyes shut, I, on a stance above you is gathering all of being a man for a final motion.

the sword that shall penetrate, which you have provided, lies mutely but vigilantly, waiting for its moment.

and this, this is my death poem.

The perfume that clings to your kimono dances to the rhythm of the wind that hums like a last reverberation of a drum for a death march. But the silent whispers of my sword is more defeaning than what is heard.

there is no other way but to go through this. the call to cede gets unbearably defeaning the more i deny my inevitable submission. and my tongue-tied feet forbid me to run away.

so i accept my fate.

Your fate on my faith on you.

i have come face to face with the mortality of my defenses, and i recognize defeat. there is no other option but to succumb, for me to gain my freedom. all the hurting ends today. and so shall all the pains of the past dissolve into ripples of pleasure once i give in to this destiny.

i chose you to be my second. or, mayhap, fortune chose you to bring me down.

And so the sword sings rebirth as i pull it from the sheath. Stacatto to the point of surrender--- your heart; that cries of piercing. Undressing every doubt, pushing all the courage, sweating every tear, firm on the aim I keenly wait for your commence.

and down i am. for i have been conquered --- emotion; intellect; and today, constitution.

And you commend.

i am prepared for this act. baring all, i stand naked, begging for liberation. my lips are gasping, gulping pockets of air, for i know that when that moment comes, my breath shall be taken away. i close my eyes to hide everything else; darkness magnifies sensations, and i need to embrace this experience. fiery passion is curdling, rushing through my veins, fueled by my desire to have you acknowledge my absolute surrender and spare me the intense anxiety of beseeching for absolution.

my quiver trembles in anticipation of the impassioned piercing, ready to take the pain-pleasure that shall release my spirit and grant me the gift of rebirth.

as i spread myself to receive my fate, you tenderly drew your glistening sword. and in one swift hush, the blade plunged.

Plunge to the skin of eternity. Gush of your rain on the painting of a nightsky on the sheets. Exhale. Soar from what is human.

And i, with your completion, shatter to a thousand lights... and melt to petals of cherry blossoms and be blown to the heavens.

and i fell, for you, with you, free at last.

I raptured for you, with you, free at last.

thanks to luanne who dreams with me...