Joy peered through the crimson panes of her blessed sanctuary, body outstretched across the silken petals of blossoming love. Each exhale escaped her lips a hum, an ode to the ecstasy of Being, breaking the silence that embraced her, faithful, like a lover. She rose and fell as an ocean, birthed again with every heartbeat. She bathed in peace, in light, in stillness, peering as she always did --.
Outside, the crimson tide gave way to rough sea, a tangled mass of sharp blue lines bending like steel in every direction. An indistinguishable prison. Trapped inside, the wild eyes of the one she knew as Sorrow. Wet with wanting, they watched her, as they always did, steady like serpents poised to strike in desperation. Heavy breaths raged like storm clouds, fog on the glass, transient blindness.
Joy did not avert her eyes, and neither did Sorrow. She knew without seeing. He was always there, as long as she was. His piercing eyes crying of the misery of Being. She raised her hand to the glass, fingers trickling condensation into dancing streams. Up and down in sporadic loops, hands wiped the surface clean - Joy's on one side and on the other, Sorrow's, moving in perfect synchronicity.
Palm to palm, locked in gaze, Joy and Sorrow sat in stillness. Joy smiled and somewhere behind the prison lines, she sensed that Sorrow did too. It was in that moment that she realized her unshakable truth - that the pane through which she peered was not a window but a mirror. Sorrow not an other, but a droplet in the same cup of wine, Joy not absolute, but Sorrow set free.
Chicago-born citizen of the globe, rich in the things that really matter. Let's get weird.