There is nothing to say, she laughs. The door swung on it’s hinges, uncertain whether to open or close. The window, wide-eyed, allowed the light to enter, but only with a certain discretion. Cicadas screamed. Over-ripe figs fell to the ground. The walls bared their souls. And the day passed away.
This heat is driving me wild. I roam the island like a feral goat. Bones cracking like sticks under a cloven foot. But it is the antlers that capture me in this moment of abandon. They are only twigs but I am surely a deer.
Pause. Reflect. Feel the rock. Breathe. Sigh. Everything is possible before we die.
I hold on to the notion of solidity,
Though nothing is ever secure.
I release my expectations,
Then everything is sure.
Each stone has a story
And I am blown away by them all