Midnight Sun

I waited for you in the ice fields of midnight. It was survival—not life. The gravity of Being! I was a winter captive rising again to spring. We were dust rushing to rapture after dusk. I cannot bear entrapment. A creature in captivity, I was seized by a ravenous dream. At the mercy of the winds, I was Feral with desire. That promised Paradise is always arriving. The apocalypse came to California, and we were abandoned in the flames aftermath. There’s a door in the burning horizon. In your eyes, I was lifted into the light. You were the miracle I was denied. It was survival—not life. Suffering is a sacred rite. What were you named before Eden? I vanished into a dream, the dream of leaving with a murmuration of starlings. You showed me there’s a door in the horizon, and in the midnight sun, I was at last rising—to spring’s ritual of suffering.