Melody

                                                                          Melody

    I walk through the swinging doors at a near desperate pace, hoping I'm not too late.  I look up and see a familiar person swaying in front of me, but it isn't her; hopefully this is my lucky night.  I make a stop before I reach my seat as I'm always thirsty after I get off work.  Just a few more minutes.  I think I can wait that long.  I'm nervous.  I'm always a little nervous, but tonight is different.  Tonight is the night everything changes.  I just hope I don't fuck it up.

    I'm bored now.  Not really, I just say that in my head to appease the thousands of insects in my stomach.  It doesn't work, but it won't matter.  I've been waiting for this moment for far too long.  I hate Def Leppard.  Nothing pisses me off more than to watch pieces of trash act like they're "pouring sugar" all over themselves.  Absolutely disgusting.  Don't these people realize what they look like?  Ugly, would-be-fornicators if they were so lucky?  Jesus.  If He were here even His blinding light would be swallowed by the endless sin and swaying fluorescent rays as they are held, completely suspended in the musky air.  I'm glad He's not here to see them.  I've seen the look in their eyes.  One would describe them as animals or monsters, but even these adjectives greatly fail to illustrate the two-horned demons they really are.  Religion is a funny thing.  It's something we would never find if it wasn't for someone telling us what it actually is.  Thankfully those telling us what it is know for sure what it is; otherwise, all of the rest of us would be fucked.

    Applause.  I grow more nervous.  Better get another drink and take my pill, you never know when your back might start hurting again.  It really is amazing how much more clearly you think when you mix Rumplemintz and Vicodin.  I realize I forgot my Xanex.

    The devil invented smoke.  No other substance creates this type of haze; a euphoria for some; a hell for others.  Killing us both slowly from the inside out.  You can see it, but it never really goes away.  It always lingers.  Impossible to get the smell out.  I guess he created termites, too.  Jesus.  Calm down.  I hate my own thoughts.  They skip around my unregrettably damaged brain on a collision course with each other with enough inertia to spin the world into a galaxy on the other side of this never-ending universe that we're all stuck in.  Focus.  Come on, focus.

    Her turn.  She wears white like an angel.  She knows no other color.  Why I love her.  Why I love her.  It isn't a question.  It's just an expression I use because when I ask myself my entire being is consumed by light.  She is my angel.  She doesn't use a corny song.  She's slow.  She never moves fast.  I cannot use the analogy of watching her like a lioness stalking her prey.  She isn't a feast.  Her fingertips are velvet.  She arches her back and extends her arms toward our Father praying to abolish all of her sins.  No man is playing music.  It's coming from her.  This isn't a song.  This is the result when a goddess moves in such a way the heavens rejoice and all of the other angels are in awe of the purity she emits.  God created her from himself.  Why she's condemned to earth I cannot know, but we are in perfect harmony.  As she continues so does the music; and my world is finally in perfect order.  Everything is clear.  She doesn't see the devils in the crowd.  She only sees me.  Her nakedness isn't something of sexuality, but the purity of Eve before the incident.

    The light is fading now but her melody remains until the sin struggles to take me back into the place I was before.  It's over.  I cannot move.  I can only stare at the stage.  I'm completely blinded.  I do not see her asking these devils for their company, only persuading them to follow her light; to break through the devil's smoke and join her on the other side.  Now is my time.  I know she's felt the chemistry we have.  The blatancy of it has taken away every need for words.  She's talking to a sinner.  I stand from my chariot, step down and slowly approach her as I send my unwavering love straight to her as if sent from a dove from above.  There's no stopping this cataclysm of events.  This is the great moment of my life.  This is Moses parting the Red Sea.  This is Jesus walking on water.  This is my miracle.  I am behind her now and I can smell her sweet rosebud nectar.  The essence of an angel.  What else can it be?  My eyes are closed.  I relish in this holy moment.  I slowly open my hand.  This will be a miracle.  The simple touch of two beings this pure can only result in the ultimate triumph of good over evil.  The union of two souls completely made for each other will change everything.  I know she can feel me behind her.  We've never been this close.  The sinners in the room are in pain, for the closeness of our souls will soon vanish all evil.  Our unification is almost complete and the sinners are in fear.  They know their end is near.  Silence.  This is it.  After we touch, my once course fingertips will be spun from the velvet of the angels.  My hand hovers behind her halo.  I can feel the force created from the friction of our love.  It is unbearable.  I must touch her.  Now.  Thank you, God.  I keep my eyes closed for fear of being blinded from the light that will surely wash away all of my sins.  And then.

    Her rosy thorns lash my face in the most unholy of fashions, unleashing the dam of clear blood from my closed eyes.  Judas.  This is how his better half felt  With my eyes closed forever, I lean back with my arms cradling the heavens.  Slowly falling back towards the demons who are surely pursuing me.  Into darkness.  Into the place I was before.  The slow eternal ring of fire that never ends, but always remains shrouded in black.  And there I will remain.