Before the night breaks to day, I embrace. I hold tight.
My eyeliner washed upon my face. My smile cracks once again.
The taste of salt and hay.
The mind left with a void the day will not avoid.
What a horrible state.
The throat a rusty road.
No night to claim.
No wisdom to own.
No pace to have been made.
No journey to end.
It will begin again.
Underwater lives the mystery I had been looking for.
I sank deep to find her, and she was there waiting for me to rescue her.
"I have been trapped here," she told me. "I started to believe you would not find me in this lifetime."
"Why are you buried here," I replied?
"It's the most obvious place to find treasures, haven't you heard?" she asked. "You must travel deep under the layers of noise to find me. It's only underwater that I can exist."
Once I found her, I felt foolish, knowing I had met her before. But I never heard the silence to know. It's no mystery why I missed her.
Now I know I must travel deep underwater to greet her.
She stands at the top of the stairs
"Have you been waiting for you?"
"No, but I see you decided to show up, anyway."
"You believed I was gone for good, didn't you?"
"Well, I did not think you had it in you to return. I thought you were exhausted. You almost died the last time you showed up here. Why would you bother to return?"
"Me, exhausted? Never darling! Not even a death bed can exhaust me. I thought you knew me better. But I see you have minimized me."
"How long do you plan on staying?"
"As long as you need me to."
"But I don't need you."
"I am here, so you must need me; otherwise, I would not have made the trip."
"I am going to invite Margret to join us. She'll keep your stay here stable."
"If you insist."
I never wanted to be dry. Being aired out by the wind is not my thing. It was not my choice. Someone else is to be blamed for these fractures and leather skin.
If it was up to me, I would have preferred to have been felt in the lake. Instead, I was forced on this boat. There was a small island I could have reached in a couple of hundred strokes. There was green grass, and if I stood under the right leaves, I could have enjoyed some shade.
But the people on the boat had a different plan. They were going to escort me to shore. "As soon as my feet touch the hot white sand, I'll run," I whispered.