Aria

Lelia Thomas
Author: Lelia Thomas
Word Count: 368
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Aria

Lelia Katherine Thomas
leliathomas@gmail.com OR Twitter @leliathomas
www.leliathomas.com

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In the skies, I’ve seen her pale, arching back,
The outstretched arms and slender, grasping fingers,
The straining ivory-feather wings.
In my mind, her presence lingers.
To know her name, I am blessed.
Archaic, it sits within my beating breast,
And on my tongue it is a prayer;
So, Aria, watch me, listen.
Tell heaven of my rapture.

I see him as no other among men,
His heart’s passion vibrant against all eclipses—
The lines written on his soul, like words of a book,
And I must shade my eyes to take my glimpses.
In him, I see brilliant green youth glint,
And I see him years to come, until hair is wintry flint.
He is one thousand canvas paintings.
So arise, Aria, share this sight.
Let heaven put his name in their writings.

Does Paradise play with my heartstrings so?
Even as my skin comes alive beneath an age-old burning—
My hands reaching in darkness for him,
My body willing, as my mind yields to the yearning,
And for him my touch is set ablaze.
Fiery and feverish, my lips against his play—
Precious moments holding lives on a fragile string.
So arise, Aria, tell them of my desires.
May this story be carried on your angelic wing.

Ten thousand emotions are lighting my soul.
I savor them in my mouth as sweetest wine
And inhale the soft sent of flowers,
While plucking ripe fruits from the vine.
In this garden, he abides with me.
Captured between honeysuckle and cypress tree,
Two chests are heaving a single breath over rosen lips.
So arise, Aria, show me of finer things if you can.
See if other angels can find this faith at their fingertips.

What he has given me is as the rushing of springtime brooks.
Gentle and rich is the love he gives, this perfect affection.
It is a song from the world’s oldest languages.
Melodies flood me in every direction.
It is here in this quivering, burning sound
Where the droning of a wayward string is found—
Chants and dirges to the darkness now gone.
So arise, Aria, sing of my joy in him.
Tell heaven of my rapture.
Tell heaven of my passion.

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