Absent Healing with Rainbows
Your silence holds me captive
all the way across town.
I feel those days
when things are out of sync.
When voiceless messages
verge on the peculiar, if at all.
When you are thinking
but I cannot read your eyes.
When you are tense
and I am not allowed to touch you.
It is particularly frustrating
for me, a former healer,
wanting desperately
to stand behind your chair,
place my hands full of rainbows
on your shoulders full of stress.
Press shimmering rose heat
into tired muscles,
rub the base of your weary skull
with violet thumbs,
massage my way in silver
down the rhythm of your spine
until your golden aura
rises once again.
My gentle kiss
on the back of your neck
would be optional, of course,
and probably a cool blue-green.
It would only take a moment
for this temporary relief
(a more substantial
release of tension
is forbidden).
And it seems a shame
that we should suffer
black-and-white
limitations
at a time when healing colors
should abound.
Instead I must rekindle
former metaphysical methods,
try to radiate a healing from afar.
Send harmonious vibrations
across the airwaves,
pleasurable thoughts
through the night.
Shower you in compassion.
Surround you in white light.
Envision you relaxed
and filled with love.
Quietly I wait,
an illusive presence
in the corner of your room.
An invisible spiritualist,
an absent healer,
a thinly disguised lover
shrouded in lavender
and transparent
to everyone
but you.
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