A Tranquil Glow

1 11 2006

Time For No One

Dawn breaks, and I know I am blind before I open my eyes. The warm deceptive tranquil glow of the rippling water trickles into the side of my head and into my dreams, warm as milk and honey, smooth as ink, ageless as any girl. I remember a childhood, an adulthood, a retirement, and a death, and again the world spinning forward. I, I carry on too, learning more each time, but always blind. Sometimes pitied and sometimes hated, born into good families and murderous ones too. Once I did not make it past childhood. I can still remember the feeling of the cold metal against warm, running flesh then the flash of realization, then the nothing. The world, I tell you is not captured in a photograph, or embodied by a culture, limited to a morality, or in any sense sensible. Life is not better understood by the old, they are merely given respect and listened to.

I was born once in a town not far from where you were born. I don’t mean where you grew up, but where you were born. That hospital, I was there too, in this life, and I remember the look upon my parents’ face – how deceived they were that this girl was their child. Once in high school, I watched a girl commit suicide over her perfectionism; she would rather die than fail. Her long hair was without curls – black, and her face had this remarkably unique cream-colored complexion. I was only fourteen then, not with the wisdom I have earned again (and again, each time). It is the power to recall these lives that chases me in my dreams, that forces me to turn, turn, turn never to believe in certain practical ideas like time. Because anything, I’d give anything to die, to go back, for things to shake, settle, hospitalize.

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