the verdant and the blue
stop, and take a look from over my shoulder. hold me close, as you map the surface and bear witness to my furthest geography. the land that follows me from high to below sea level. as far as the crow flies between the verdancy and blue. my terrain on view, my footprints found on every footpath and detour. where you can see my fingerprints all over the fingertips of the headland. down to the white tip of my nail, a recurving spit that still defies the tides. now bitten to the quick, on ground that is no more stone than wet sand.
imagine sinking beneath the surface wake, and sleep awakening? to be taken below the quickening stream where sentient flows migrate and settle upon the invisible sediment. swathed to the silt of the seabed, cognizant. visions wrested from the almost still. distilled luminosity moving the pensive dirt.
and just like that i snap back to that place beyond the perimeter. where words run out as they cross the periphery. dropping to the ground, collapsing their mass right there right in front of me. buckling their knees whilst beseeching their worth, offering me contemplation in the wet, sticky earth. reasoning i have to choose from many of their meanings and claim me for their equivalent terms. pleading with me to utter their name and be part of their lexical territory. you see, their rhetoric doesn’t speak to me, and they will always fall short. ill-defined, ill-equipped, not cut out for such intimate thoughts. so i remain tight-lipped, unmoved as their voices die down. bowing their heads in quiet enervation, my silence again deaf to all their pointless whispering.