I stand ankle deep
in the cool, rushing river
and watch the minnows
kissing my toes
with starlight quickness,
licking for some sort of
sustenance.
I listen to the siren song
of the forest,
slow and verdant
like the echo of fronds
unfurling delicately
in the mottled sunlight
and aching with longing.
I let the shadows move
through me,
leaving a human shaped
space
where maybe once
there beat a slow heart
lazily trickling blood
through intricate maps
of veins and capillaries.
I let the water rush past me
and I think of hands
folding and unfolding
and flowers wilting
and rejoining the dirt
in a poetic display
of circularity.
Time oozes forward
with a finite smirk,
leaving a lucent film
of memories
that haunt me,
of smiles that are
lost to me.
There is laughter now,
ringing eerily
amongst the trees
like a foreign language
in a land of silence
and shadow creatures.
The river runs through me
and I am paralyzed
by the singularity
of this moment.