to burst like him. that is what i craved. to burst up and out — flames of leather and ink. but i was tethered by delicate snake print and the pride of a stubborn pace. my feet set quietly into the sand and my heart absorbed the nuance of the dunes.
we thought we were abandoned. why does youth do that to our minds? we had to scramble. and then we slid ourselves with so much caution through a window into the rooms half shuffled with sand and papers. even then i wanted to run away from you. i wanted to escape on the thick air and hide alone to wonder what kind of daydreams people sustained themselves on here.
the photos didn’t develop in a linear fashion. each exposure bent on the other and i am left with a single image. i wish i could step back for a few moments to walk the lost frames and say a silent, prayerful goodbye like i always do when it’s time to pack up my tangled heart and leave somewhere.
and when i am gone, off to the spirit side, will the images of my subconscious come with me? will i get to see any of these sorrows that are my undercurrents again?
i secretly hope so.