Blog PostsFriends | Post automatic 5I would say: break your soul against my liquid fingers, but we are going out of the field, away from your icy hand! I saw you calling out to the trees behind it all, where the edges bleed light and where a rain of whispers convenes, darkening all the colors till they wept with shadow. You were waiting for the reply, holding the weight in you till it melts itself solid again. I watched and worried: would we know each other when I returned?Crawling backwards, thrown from one horizon to the other, a sudden profusion of forms explode away from the curtain: their rip slowly came to rest upon itself, and complicates the glow in your eye. Untangled and laid flat in lines, cut your blood and braid yourself to me, marking a path, inadvertently, back to the first steps, where all the dancing became necessary. I forgot who I was, what am, and remembered only your absence, red and orange, as it floated back to source all the movements from which our lost souls can be traced. |
I like this Farl, thank you.