When I close my eyes, I return to it. The image remains there, forever and still, burned into my memory. When all is quiet and there's not a soul in sight, I let myself slip back and slowly give in to it's forces as they draw me closer. All is black and quiet, just the gentle accompaniment of the sound of noise, nothing in particular, no focal point.
In my dream it's always raining. Not violent like during a rainstorm, but certainly more than gentley. The sky is gray and dark, as the sun has run off for another day. I'm standing next to a window, which plays host to quite a view. An innocent rush of cool air runs up and down the length of my body, raising the hair on my neck. I can see the grass, bent over from the wind, and trying to win back it's upright position.
She's wearing a white blouse, and jeans that hug her waste. Her cloths cling to her like a second skin. Her feet are bare...I noticed while she lightly stepped her way toward a red-brick garden path. My face is pressed against the paine, the fog from my breath forms on the surface and blurs my vision. Ahead of her, a row of cedar hedges.
At this point, my mind cannot take it. Screaming at my body, it commands me to give in to chase. She is the target of my desire yet I cannot move. Conflicted, I stand there helpless and vulnerable. The sound of the rain drives past my ears harder with every minute. I want to give in, I must give in. With one last brust of meloncoly, I start for the door and grab the handle.
As I went for the door, she disappeared from slight...
No comments:
Post a Comment