Limited Sight

Set the day underneath the bridge and watch the shadows walk over. Movements set in slow motion run down the river and ride the current of perception. Standing on the shore, you watch the water rise as it starts to caress your ankles. Flash flood warning screams in the distance.



The floor opens, and for a second, darkness, calm. Everything stops and is one. Low eyes flicker as if nothing makes sense. The picture is spinning and you are the frame. The hands from below tear the clothing of wonder and realization saves you in agony.



Loss of breath, the current gets stronger, only floating from the belief of what is not to believe. Of what is not real. Naked, cold, wet, embarrassed, violated, alone. Comfort comes in darkness. Eyes tired from searching. Everything moving so fast, infinite opportunity. The mirror reflects upward but your shadow blocks the light.



Darkness below. No hesitation for help with the limbs to be pulled apart. Muscle by muscle, cell by cell. Time is everything. Every bone snaps. Like the CRACK of dawn, it's inescapable. Ultimately, the world is dry, and the rest is evaporated, where the pieces will never be found.