Water Catches your Eyes

Quiet is an impossibility. Staying calm remains a perception, and not a perpetual possibility in the middle of a final land.

………………………………………………………. ………………………………………………….

Turning slowly, rusting in a white mist. Drowning in the bluesy trail of the panorama. In the arms of barbaric death, the shores speaking to me in spineless decay. Past canyons and canals through the towering pulses. By the hands of impulses and epiphanies, I’m hiding the sound of voyage into a dreamless sleep. You need to come with me.

… ……………… ………. ………. ……. …….. ….. …………….. ………. … .

20 thoughts on “Water Catches your Eyes

  1. Lovely. I don’t see down. I rarely see down with anyone writing this rawly. Mostly with your work I see something like the motion of swimmers with breaststroke: they can appear to have gone under; only to re-emerge.

    I like
    – the final land. It is final and then we are done.
    – the hands…….because epiphanies seem to need midwifery and are not genuinely spontaneous. Or so it seems to me.
    -that command at the end because epiphanies lend themselves to commands. Not too much else does except insane, rampant ego.

    Your writing since I have been reading it has grown more certain. Bolder. Even, if I can say this also, more aware of our presence. That being the case, I do not feel unsafe being commanded.

    Wonderful again, Watt. Sarah

    Liked by 4 people

      1. You´re right, I find myself that if I capture that obssesion in haractera good direction it´s very good for me. Like constantly thinking of my characters in my first novel called The priest and the psychologist….go figure.

        Liked by 2 people

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