Into the Fluid

Your simple life, its subtle hues&#151 They are falling all around me. It is floating like a haze, like a drifter, a champaign bottle's popped cork from yesterday's celebration; it's reclining, lengthwise, in some expanse&#151 it could be called the sea. It will not be. I will call it something else. I will write its name on the stars, or maybe just on the face of my heart.

An unexpected chill greets my face as I step up to the water’s edge. Winter has snaked her first tendrils of frosty breath into autumn’s still-rosy glow.

Into the fluid we go like a dust mite on a pillow of screams. We fly down and let it surround the body, let it fill those lungs in suplication of all those dreams that to you and me are nothing more than the reality of the air.

Let us leave like lemons the dull history of our past, the frank smells of our brother's flesh. Are we not all one in the beginning? Or has this twisted tale we tell raked you so over the woodpile, your pants down, bottom up that you forget: twisted miles of dreams that were once lived by us all. Tell me now that you believe in how we got here. Fast it so just disappears that it can't be found in your head.

Some words will fall and become me. Become those who are here. Walk through them like a dance, like a fire and feel the heat on your tounge.