“If you could answer me, shower, would I talk to you?”
“If you could answer me, shower, would I talk to you?”
The Sun beamed down on me claiming the last moisture out of my being. My dry tongue shrivelled in envy at the sweat that slowly pit pat pattered on the stone around me. I stood on a sandstone ledge before a sinkhole. Below me, far below me, laid the cool water pool lazily reflecting the Sunlight and all of my dreams back to me. The sky was a blue void far above, the world a beige wasteland all around, and my destiny was a sunken pool before me.
I knew it was where I needed to go. The most primal parts of myself were yearning for the embrace of that water. I wanted to drink it; I wanted to bathe in it. I needed it.
“Jump, jump … jump, jump… jump, jump…. ” my heart told me, all day, all night, everyday.
I heard this, yet here I was, too afraid to jump.
( I wrote this with this song by Bohren & The Club of Gore in mind. If interested, play music while reading for full experience and cool band. )
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The purple silk sheets bent slowly under her paw. Padded cushions marked the division between the purple of the sea and the darkness of the pillar that rose to the heavens; centered in the sinkhole that occupied the ocean of softness. The cushions in turn fused into luscious black fur that led up a long gracious leg. A round feline shoulder rolled. Slowly it elevated, carving itself out of the slab of the back cresting like a wave at peak, flaunting for a brief moment the ultimate definition of self before coming back down to erase on the shore of body. As the wave descends from its crest, so too does the purple ocean perturb anew making a sound that is imperceptible, but that rings the senses, heightened by the shift of topography and flow of currents. A new pillar of fur passes the previous. Lifting to repeat the process of wave forming, cresting, and crashing into a new sinkhole in the waters; four of them locking in elegant dance. (more…)