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.