we're here, there, not here, not there, swirling like specks of dust, claiming for ourselves the rights of the universe. being important, being nothing, being taught in our lives of our own making that we never wanted. breaking out, trying again, wondering why the past comes with us, wondering how to talk about the past at all.
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we lived for the night. the torch in your window was my signal. when it was lit, i stayed away. when you extinguished it, i came to you - secret doors, dark corridors, forbidden stairs, brushing aside fear and propriety like cobwebs, i was inside you. you contained me. together, in bed, we could sleep, we could dream, and if we heard your servant's mournful cry, we called it a bird or a dog. i never wanted to wake. i had no use for the day. the light was a lie. only here, the sun killed, and time's hands bound, were we free. imprisoned in each other, we were free.
~ lighthouskeeping by jeanette winterson