Through The Peephole

Through the peephole I saw you. You were dancing, wildly, joyfully, with a purpose that seemed to have no purpose at all. I could see your body move beneath the thin fabric of your dress, and I could hear you pant loudly at the effortless exertion of your dance. You were in bliss, and although I swore I could hear your heart beating loudly in the distance, I stayed back, allowing you your moment where you thought no one was looking

Through the peephole I saw you. You were laughing loudly at the ether, sharing moments with the Sun as you twirled to Heaven’s sound. Your lips glistened with the anticipation of each coming note as your hardened nipples gave testament to the pleasure of all that just had passed. I could feel my own excitement build as each part of you that sang touched each part of me that heard your song.

Through the peephole I saw you. You were moving lightly as even gravity seemed to not have a hold on you. There was no effort in your motion, and it was like nothing existed outside that room you had found, where you could be hidden and yourself without the telling glances of the world around you.

My tears came spilling through the peephole. I fell in love with you that instant, knowing you as you were before the roles you play for me were born, before our universe became filled with the power of our minds. I wanted to dance with you, but then you’d see me too, and nothing would be the same.

I both hated and loved the door through which I gazed. It kept me from this you I saw, and I hated it for that. Yet, it gave you security to dance to the great unheard song, to laugh to jokes not yet told, to fly among the clouds that saw fit to meet you there. For that, I loved that door, and I gave thanks for the little spec of light that brought me there through my own darkness. Through the peephole the light will shine, and through the peephole we would shine if only we’d stop looking at the door.

It’s through the peepholes of our lives that we find life, and through the doors that we find death, and in the walls around us the holes by which we can make our escape. It is when I see you that I see me, and when you fly it is then I realize I, too, can be free.

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One thought on “Through The Peephole”

  1. Liberation …. Ahhhh to dance like no one is watching. To hunger for movement ….for the pulse of life flowing in and through every cell of body and being … For no reason other than the shear pleasure of being one with life. I love this!

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