Wednesday, January 13, 2010

sea thing.

Un-pigment


She had futile fists fighting. her stomach salted like sea.
[And he will wipe the sad and deepest things away until you think they aren’t so close anymore]
But this was before words crept unto the pallet; premeditated and empty.
When she spoke in was in sounds like rain.
[your fire and my light]
Her Melody had gone black.
The feeling of it burst in tree like branches throughout her chest as if lightening had raced down, reducing her [heart thing] into pieces of hot glass; aching and open like a searing volcano.

[much description of pain, and awful hurt; a very long time and some words about saving a pretty girl with scar and not feeling real.]

she abandoned the earth, the place she was. And descended into the most genuine depths of mysterious and dark water.

where, although she could not be loved, she could not be un-loved.

And in time, the nerves that once allotted memory and knowledge of time and experiences of tastes and sounds about rain, and the trickle of fingertips about her palm became dormant and inanimate.

And human rules faded off of her body.
She did not age.
Her hair grew out white over a mile in length; floating in silver tinsel up the ocean reaching towards the surface and the sun danced upon in.

And specs of light danced as luminated sky adornment on it, playing games “not to touch the shadow”.
The memory of amber darting through tree, sitting aside soccer morning sunrise drifted into the liquid and evaporated into the atmosphere; digested into shapes of stars and other lights that people look up to and wonder about.


it was a desperate reach into her acknowledgment, that the wind and the atmosphere would attempt to catch her eyes with a tsunami, a violent sky, or in aurora. And in its admirations, the sky would try and try its best to capture a rouge star for her. to burn and scar itself, just to plead its diligent devotion for her. and she was just as persevering in her unrequited interest.

as she would spend her nights laying a field, rearranging stars with her fingertips.

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