Serendipity |
Sharp trumpets call in the distance; the sound vaporous from another place and then the sun turns red, hikers slow their step into the new haze; A sparkle from afar over the black ocean line, grows bigger at every wet step. Evenings she would rip into the water and fight the waves until the waves gave up and I could figure her out now, more distinct at every second. She spoke to me with a composed tone which would hide something else. There is always another side to her voice, almost two lines speaking the same verse. The silky stretch of water behind mirrored perfectly our shadow. She tells me about the night that’s young but it’s been dark for a while and appears almost yellow and the objects in her room are too distinguishable yet so different almost like new objects in a new room so she doesn’t feel home and chokes silently into the yellow darkness. The sky drifts fast now over building tops, and morning steam rolls out onto cold piers. Under the flicker of street signs, two bodies lie calmly behind thin drapes in the pale halo of new time and their mass grows together bigger at each breath – rises from the bedsheets, wet and shivering, stumbling to the sidewalk to light a cigarette. The man at the counter spins his glass and watches the light patterns play on the wall the shapes of her lips spelling words he’d been remembering for too long. |