I don't know how I got here, my history to this moment is a complete unknown. I'm sure if I tried, my past could be revealed to me by traveling down the familiar paths. Here, a place beckons me to rest my weary feet. Here, the thankless journey of my travels finally meets a point where security and wanderlust have reached a conflicting peak. My need to continue down the road to an eventual destination is countered by a simple grassy tuft of land, surrounded by wispy reeds on the banks of a majestic lake.
The wind sings to me running through the leaves of many trees, entering my ears, tickling tales of delicious fantasy. I see a companion of this force driving light ripples across the glassy waters. Looking closely insects dance an infinite swarm, gliding impossibly close to the surface. If bugs had lips they would be kissing their reflection. Oh delicate stillness! Reveal to me your mysteries!
I claim to a silent watcher as I perch myself upon this soft rise, water surrounding me on all sides. My thoughts begin to wander through the familiar territory of past lovers. How tender their lashings and how sharp their care. I wonder if it's the same as everyone out there. Or is it me that remains the same, through all this time, as much as I seem to change, it remains always, the same. Perhaps joy lies in that intertwining between two minds, the delicate action of intentionally derived reaction. The give and take of play, poking fun for it's own sake. If I always take the same course, who is to say the result will change?
How can I change my course, to intentionally will a different set of actions in those few I enjoy to chase and thrill. Always in action, to pause and reflect would be to display vulnerability. A school of dark fish come near the small sandy bank. I study them for their subtleties, which are numerous. Daring not to move, breathe or utter a single distraction which would disturb them, one breaks my concentration in the effort to obtain a bug on the surface.
A large stone in my well of thought, the ripples reverberate throughout my mind. How I enjoyed playing with my prey, to poke and prod them in a manner that I would hate. For some reason, this ambivalence keeps them interested. The less I care, the closer they come. Often I create mystery where there is none. Why do I enjoy this turmoil? Or is it how I've been trained? Since genuine humanity on my part keeps them far away. I must develop this eternal game, if only to keep myself entertained.
The wind picks up again, and inspires a song of a different sort.
tired tormentor
bored with lust
seeks companion
to break my crust
she is sincere
striking and kind
beauty endearing
savored like wine
i'd keep you forever
just don't run away
but if i meet you
i won't know what to say
The blurred rhyme of the final stanza mimics my emotional state as the pent up frustration and denial catches up with me. I can't even keep someone forever any more. This dream is not even a part of my reality in the most vague sense. It is a continual cycle of wear, rinse, reuse and discard when through.
Serial monogamy making me diffuse.
My head finds my hands, as this peaceful place is disturbed by the unease I carry. The tears fill my palms which are fling into the water around me, spraying my sadness in a rough arc of droplets. As I pause with bleary, mirth-stained eyes to contemplate the droplets in a moment of sustained misery, a large, pale shape rushes beneath the surface towards the shore. Hardly a ripple betrays the presence as it breaks through the water at the small sand bar where I was appreciating small fish earlier.
She is beautifully naked as the water's sheen stretches tight against her skin, reflecting the world around her. Slowly, the tension of the water breaks and falls down her face, allowing her short raven-black hair to breathe the air. With supernatural slowness, this second skin recedes down into the water. When the shifting line frees her widely-set eyes, they audibly pop open, revealing a most delightful round dark iris and form leading into almond-shaped crevices near her tiny, petite nose. Though she is slightly turned to me, revealing her sharp profile, I can still see the light shining through the cornea of her far eye,
