Of Love and Water

Of Love & Water

A new chapter ; beyond dystopia

Slammed into a moment of sheer physical poetry as the rain washed over me I became a gilded thing. As time collapsed the will to retrieve eluded me. So I stood in the rain. I waited hopeless as the water washed over in rushing tones,

ears: a thousand muted sounds in harmony

nose: ozone sweetened fresh pumping life, as carbon dioxide to oxygen

tongue: sweet and rusty

skin:trails of water in rivulets to cleanse

eyes:rain, sheets of gray, colors darkened in tones of watered depths, illuminessence in flashes of intermittent light and

thunderous applause.

all sensory, to restore me.

My mind has become one with this thing, my beauty is terrible to behold as my skin oozes pain. Cassandra calls me from my distant revery, and I run towards the familiar voice. She opens the door and warm light floods out.

“The war had ended,”she told me, quitely.

The radio in the background was a hum of excited voices clamoring for attention. I walked slowly and with jaded steps into the immaculate kitchen. Mindlessly, (the counters gleaming) in memories that couldn’t speak my trauma slid and shifted and pooled around me; soaking from bones and skin and clothes into residual pools of water that shone with promise. I stared at the puddles on the floor. As if in a trance of sorts, my mind muted the concerns of itself and absorbed the depravity, held it captive, pondered momentarily, and discarded.

It remained but, nonetheless it wouldn’t be long.

The phone rang

A familiar voice came through the line and I stood shivering, aware of my bones beneath the skin.

Allow me to digress.

Late October mid-twenties: