From the Window

Let’s conjure tricks of magic with the slow droplets of another world. Let’s slowly drown and distort the truth to leave nothing but a trail of silver, caught in the rays of a fading sunlight. 

I have stared into your eyes for so long they start to duplicate like a dream built from webs of delicate dew. A celestial dream, your words were caramel sweet. When we dipped our toes in the devil’s honeyed water, your eyes became blinding blue fluorescent lights. Why did they make me stare for so long? Make me tumble into the familiar, the hazy and slow. They smile at me until I can no longer hold on, and I slip into the other one/

In this droplet you are clinging on. And I am now a ghost. My breath is not slow or deep, just as it has always has been. Submerging into the bubbles of who I used to be before you. When the sun wasn’t bliding, the water wasn’t soaking and the empty streets of your silhouette were not haunting. The bubbles left were just floating. Between the ground and the sky, unchained like birds. Like Icarus between the sea of you, the sun of me. Tears roll down tender cheeks and now/

you melt into my mind like ice in cold water. There is no sun to submerge these half thought out traces of you back into my blood. So they evolve like monsters in the deep darkness. Spilling over my skin, spilling like ink/

Over letters and eyes and windows/

Lurching with claws, they tear my heart to fluff like it was a cushion. I’ve never seen these animals before. These animals who whisper ‘jump’, ‘go’, ‘run’. Those prowling whispers fill my head like an hourglass. Lapping up to devour droplets that are too shiny, or too slow/

These whispering monsters leave the round ones to slip/

The ones that reflect every inch of the fading sun. The ones that bounce the light into my eyes. The ones that stay, on the window pane. Those they keep. 

Featured in the wonderful Sink Magazine. Issue 2, Intimate: Sex, Love and the Body


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