So that’s it, the world is changed once more. How quickly do you wipe away the tears, and delve deep into that familiar mundane lifestyle? I should take out the trash, I got to fix my bike, my car is off the road again… I should wash some clothes, maybe later. Maybe after I am done lying here on the floor, I shut everything out, concentrate on the heat I can feel across my face, and the silence that’s being brought to me by the soft amber light filtering through my closed eyelids. Moments pass, I shut down memories before they gather momentum until there is the one thought I was looking for. I remember a dream that I had last night. The last night I spent with the one I love. I wandered in to some white austere room that held the manner of some mediterranean villa, one glass table with nothing on it, white large tiles on the floor, an empty large bed. I spin round, take it all in. I then see myself laying there reading a book, I can’t say much more than this only that I perceive it to be, and reading aloud, sunlight penetrates the closed blinds that wrap around the room, all is silent except for my voice. Patterns begin to shift, rays of light dance as if the world outside is spinning with the sun, slowly first, as time goes on. Still reading out the words that are incomprehensible, the other me senses this and reads louder, but it doesn’t help, sounds of static start to build and develops in to storms of traffic, trains passing, I’m still laying there shouting the words, straining my lungs now, all of which is still difficult to discern, the world outside is flying by. Full speed is realised, my head starts to spin as the severity from the assault on my senses by witnessing this scene becomes too much. Watching myself screaming these words as if preaching some indecipherable scripture, as the lightning like bursts from the swirling sun outside and that cacophony of noise pervades all I am drowned in calm and equal amounts of terror as if being hurled through space, yet attached to something, an invisible wire on one singular path…
I wake to the morning lit room and the softness of an unknown bed. I wake to look in to her closed eyes, I shift closer, forever closer. Unreality intact.
Stains on my sleeves, I remember the mornings made you nauseous.
I don’t know where to start.
Fire couldn’t hold your hair in that abyss like darkness that surrounded us outside the car. Amber lamp light drifted in through the dried rain stains and summer dust upon the windows. 2am, sounds of light rain as we watched in our black leather seats, your body crossed over the gear shift, on to mine. Chairs pulled back to allow us the view of nothing, the starlight buried in its mountain like disguise, the night was never alone, he silently breathed, life radiating, legs are falling asleep, I’ll turn the pain over to the night, then there where no words spoken, time can cease, no distractions from our voices, free of smiles. Life could not engulf us.
Sit with nothing to grip
Only the obscure eliminations
and ships that cometh with the tides
destined to sink like the moon
The alerted night rightly arises
swinging its archaic sabres mowing the refracted light
blinding wolves and their twisted wooden gaze
Hunting down the fluorescent ocean
Phosphorescence omnipresent performing under the galactic ceiling
Whilst the scientist attempts no true religion
Wheeling home a rusted bike amidst the crowds, bitten half to death.
Foresight is hurtled towards the past
The now is forever too distant to be held
But hold it you will, to lay beneath paradise
The desert tugs at your silken sleeves
Untouched by dust and beloved rains
Through and through, rewards are yielded when the soul is left
So in between, divinity may fill that void
emanating in selflessness, pursuing an awakening
Eyes are looked into, fighting over all that is without
Daylight imposed on all yet hidden by the sun
overshadowed by the ingloriousness of personality.
How does one watch them dance?
Across the stage of serpents tongues
Entangled with the silver dusted scales,
Abiding by the wisdom, winding,
Elegantly in its quivering tail,
Stillness envelops it but once,
How does it still till the earth
in all godliness?
Photographs by Daniel Grant; words by Daniel Grant.
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