Diffusion
Particles of light frozen in the gel-like darkness. No mist and no wind. All else, so perfectly still. My breath, hanging in the city night -- not a forest. And nothing crackles underfoot. Just the silent cement.
I turn to you, and see that you're asleep. Curled up, fetus-like, in the midst of the cool dark grass. I want to break up the night, so dense and soundless, but I want to preserve it also, a cocoon of safeness -- a haven from reality, everything stripped of its weight in the absence of light. There are no fireflies and there are no glow worms. Magic is absent, despite that reality is also absent. The constellations are also absent. We're nowhere, in this time and space. Going nowhere, coming from nowhere. Conceived, yet not conscious. Here, but not existing.
I'm waiting for thunder or rain.
But there's only the night.
I turn to you, and see that you're asleep. Curled up, fetus-like, in the midst of the cool dark grass. I want to break up the night, so dense and soundless, but I want to preserve it also, a cocoon of safeness -- a haven from reality, everything stripped of its weight in the absence of light. There are no fireflies and there are no glow worms. Magic is absent, despite that reality is also absent. The constellations are also absent. We're nowhere, in this time and space. Going nowhere, coming from nowhere. Conceived, yet not conscious. Here, but not existing.
I'm waiting for thunder or rain.
But there's only the night.
