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The Luminescent Realm

We’re at tea for two, but there’s room for a third. You say that there’s only two universes, but I say that there’s space for three. Just like how there’s room for a third at that table. 

For now, I am embodying the physical, but alas, I am just another nebula trapped under skin. Stars are close to extinction, and the moons that surround me are my loved ones. The light that you are seeking resides within me. One can only try to break me. 

One day, we will all enter the Luminescent Realm, in all of its glory. Black holes exist inside one another, stars are free, roaming about, and all the moon children come out to play. The Luminescent Realm has thousands of universes trapped inside of it. Break a wall, and you enter another. Monsters and aliens lumber about, silky, slippery rings of the planets connect, all to make a bigger one. 

Glowing microscopic animals litter the ground, and the petals of Venus move as you take a step. As it gets colder, it gets warmer. Time is relative, and slow here, but somehow, everyone’s days are numbered. It all goes by to quickly. Try parallel parking here, and you’ll end up falling diagonally. The Luminescent Realm is not for those who know, it’s for those who believe. But, for now, we are all universes of our own. 

For now, I am a nebula wrapped up in skin.

-O.A 

[vancouver-itself-blog]

How To Get Away With Crimes In The Night

There is a reason why mortals do not commit crimes in the light of day. Because it is I, who could burn them with just a glance, unlike my sister, her calming, dappled skin casting a soft light upon their faces, illuminating their true intentions. It is I, who glows incandescent with truth, embodying all that is fair and just. It is I, who can set a man ablaze, illuminating his skin to the extent where he himself, becomes fire. There is a reason why mortals do not commit crimes in the light of day. Because I see all, and I hear all. I see imaginary knives that people practice to hold, and I see the quick exchange of the eyes between secret lovers. I hear the karmic chanting of man, how he vows to slit his brother’s throat for uprooting his crown. There is a reason why mortals do not commit crimes in the light of day. It is because they know. They know that I see and hear them, so they wear fragile masks that bake and bead their foreheads with sweat in the day. But at night, the masks come off to reveal wild-eyed and mirthless grins, their teeth becoming translucent. Their jaw elongates, showing off high cheekbones and crooked noses. Their backs hunch over, the skin stretching over their spine, bones visible. Their hair becomes thinner in the moonlight, longer in the moonlight, as do their fingers, which they use to ever so slowly pry open a door and sing in a honeyed voice the grimmest of tunes. Their skinny legs tip toe over the carpeted floors and reach into cabinets, safes, beds, cribs, grabbing the most valuable thing they can reach. They keep singing their songs, voices as smooth as ever as they step into the moonlight, under my sister’s loose supervision and slyly smile, eyes rolling to the back of their heads in sinful ecstasy. They quietly move back into their own houses and wash off stained blood and alcohol from their bodies, rubbing their grey skin a berry red and move into their beds next to their unsuspecting spouses and whisper in their ears a gentle goodnight, as it was a good night indeed. When they wake up in the morning, they put their masks back on, the same ones they always wear and scheme into the day. The same affairs, murders, revolutions are being planned and I, who burn ever so brightly- I, who can strike them down if I wanted to, cannot. Alas, there is a reason why mortals do not commit crimes in the light of day.

-O.A

(Hey everyone! This is my first post on my blog! Thanks for reading!)