we lived our lives by the muffled protection of the moon at night. whispered confessions and daring illuminations danced along our tongues and against the bare skin of youths.

emotion was adored - worshipped almost - for it drove our very consciences to a state of ecstasy in our private oblivion where we found comfort in being three bodies bound together.

head upon a chest and arm around another, we nursed and coddled each to sleep when sleep eluded us. lips grazed the ear of one as soft lullabies were murmured to an heir.

the darkness had taken all of us over and begged us to return upon its retreat. we spent daylight’s hours dreaming of the immediate past and immediate future, and of the peace we found when speech was conducted with touch and twisted concern.

and one would inherit it all; she is the child we loved more than ourselves, the bearer of all our burdens, and the result of our secrets, and all the inescapable and consuming love would be hers.

she has been and continues to be a subtle call from across a sightless plane; a call that never ceases speaking or reaching out. she pulls me forward and stops me from looking back at all the moments i regret. she is my progress and my positivity to keep progressing.

but none, not even i, will be able to help her heal completely until she learns to walk away from the memories shrouded in darkness’s perverse comforts.

my guilt haunts me when the wee hours greet me, and the darkness holds me close again only to remind me of what’s been done. i am but one of three, and half of those to blame, and i am sorry.