I had known what I wanted with pure and healthy heart, when I saw my ghost in a lake reflecting a pulsating sun. I turned to you and there was only a seed of light in your murky eyes, but it was enough to See. Still, in between two bodies, motionless as suicide slept a murderous distance longer than the face of Sorrow. I could have cherished this; important as lightning striking the ocean floor, piercing the molten center of the Earth, creating a merciless exit wound into black skies, beyond the circle that encapsulates us. My affection was deeper than blood red and quieter than death.
The crows began to surround me.
Peering through suffocating black feathers, I watched you toss a heavy stone into the water. The ghost became disfigured. It’s serene face bent upwards into a maniacal grin. Torn apart by greedy rings of water, it was sacrificed to soothe the lonliness of cold shores.
I turned again to you, and saw the sun set in the windows of your house. I could no longer See.