I fell asleep in his bed while his record player was playing In the Court of the Crimson King. It was the most beautiful music I had ever heard. We didn't have sex. We shared the pleasure of the music. In retrospect, I think I must have intimidated him, in spite of my fresh young body. He was right to not fall in love with me.
Decades later, I remember that night like it happened last week. His face, but not his name. We didn't have a long, nor necessarily passionate relationship. We walked different paths, although we shared blissful moments of music. That red lit room at night. Waking up next to his warm body to the Court of the Crimson King after the lullaby of the wind, epitaph, moonchild.
I think to the person I was then. I smile with pleasure and knowledge. Such insight I have now. I think of who I have become. More and more aligned with the wind. A force of nature in myself. I think of the innocent. The north wind piercing my heart in the plains of the heartland. I knew then who I would become. But I was impatient to become her. I am. Today I am not impatient to transcend what I have become. I know what I will be. My breath in the Court of the Crimson King waits. It will happen in time.
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