We were never silent, never. We were kodak happy. Something about the memory of us is just that. Bright. Two dimensional. The strip lighting buzz of a supermarket on a sunday morning. You aren’t the sea, not even a drop.There is nothing vast about you. You are eager, comfortable, confident in your affection. Self assured of your love. It was so unconditional I felt that I was something to need, not desire.
We were so close. Such a part of one another. One. Another. You felt like the freckles on my arms and shoulders, the imperceptible down on my skin.
I can’t dredge up anymore for you now though. I was devoured by your nervous hunger, your anxious lust. You chewed at my edges until the lines blurred and I became shadow, a bleeding shade. You’re not yet a stranger, not yet a friend, not a ghost yet. You make me numb.
Life through the pane, under the deafening silence of cloudy ice.
Sometimes it is amniotic.
Life through the pane, under the deafening silence of cloudy ice.
Sometimes it is amniotic.
Sionnachaí 