Portent: Telling Tolls

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The interior motion glides through my mind as a ghost in water. Folds & fluid, gossamer & glistening.

I can't see as well as the bliss of my morning sunlight. But I don't miss it. The free floating takes me far. Farther than depth dares to go.

One way to slide makes an easier frost. Fate is fickle. Jade teeth wrapped in a smile that's not lost upon me.

We have an agreement, Fate & I.

I only die in my dreams. I only dream in my wake & the nightmares only take me as far as I allow. I only see an ocean's depth in the beads of my brow. But you already know I don't see as well as I used to.

Cold seal is the stained glass strangling my vision. Ruby & razors. I'll cut my way through. Beads of brightness, swollen hue. I can spare a few. Yes, I could bleed to mold the winding way in hot wax.

Trace my footsteps in the steam of my clinging excess of breath. But my path is a blistering row of velvet.

Hard to leave the throes that I know. Feel the fingers grasp as I go & I see the light glisten from the past.

I know what I have to sow to exist. From dew into mist is my foe. I know where I must go. Only a river's flow.

Let me go.

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