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River Spirit

7 August 2015

 

When you wake from this dream, you will be standing in shallow waters.

There’s a moment between tides where the surface is still and the water is a mirror. She’ll appear like a flashed reflection as it starts to rain.

Every love letter you wrote and threw into the ocean, like that self-help book told you to, she would have read them all. And that’s just the start.

Everything you meant to say, to dead relatives, absent friends, vacant exes; they heard every word. All of the things we never will be, all the lost possible selves you mourn, you let them go. This is where we begin to feel at home.

And then you wake for real, only half-remembering the afterimages.

Whenever you hear the rain, you will think of her.

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