Dark Matter - original artwork and story by @mariandavp

It’s been a long time. What could you be thinking right now? Not me I suppose. But still… I’ m not entirely sure that I haven’t crossed your mind. You see, I’m a believer. I believe they have heard my prayer. I believe you have heard me. I believe so I can hope. I believe in the power of what I feel for you.

Only you can make my ego shrink and my being expand. Close your eyes. See my soul grow, extend and disintegrate into million oscillating particles that too stretch and explode! See the creation of a new born universe. Open your senses and feel them bounce under my skin.

They struggle to escape this body that doesn’t fit them anymore. Listen to their hammering as they make their way to freedom. They will succeed, they will fly, they will overrun the skies until they find you; and when they do, a billion of falling stars will shower you with an unheard cosmic affection, leaving you no choice but to touch them like they touch you. Everywhere.

They will become the dark matter that surrounds you.

What I wouldn’t give to be able to do that. To surround you. If I had to believe that it’s not meant for me to touch you in this life, I would not think twice. I would rather be a spirit and follow you everywhere than live a life without the hope of you. As a ghost I could sneak into your room at night, and that very moment when your eyelids fall heavy and you are free of will, I could caress you without resistance. And you, lost in your hypnotic state, would feel my touch on your backbone and shiver and subtly smile from pleasure. Maybe as a ghost, I would be able to pull your hair behind your ear and whistle blow a memory of me, until this memory became your own and my name jumped out of your mouth, like an old song.

Experience is a miracle beyond time. Perception is a miracle beyond matter.

Do not trust the scientists when they say that knowledge comes before imagination. It’s a lie. What If I haven’t died yet? For a while I found myself in a room with you and I saw you sit alone and sleepy and stroked your back and you smiled.

What is imagination if not the thread with which we embroider our lives?

[original story and artwork by @mariandavp]

[painting is 90x70cm acrylics on canvas]

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