Prose

Oceans Four

Forgo, Not Forgotten

I ponder how people see others 
In their reflections peering back
vibrating in frenzied pools.
Perceptions of themselves not
forgot. Forgo forgotten shores,
hands of circles in circles spiralling 
compulsions of self as self defined?
Can they see themselves in the hubris
of humanity?

Understanding another comes
in stillness of self, knowing circles
and patterns definitions as perceived.
Hand in hand – around
and around.                                    ~IW~

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Oceans – Part Three –

‘Evaporating’

Am I the North Sea, connected
to many shores,
Still separate? Seeing
north, east, west, and south –
News, dispersed to never touch
nor share a smile.
Slowly escape every shores fingers
dipping in, stirring her tempest
lapping and tasting
each particle, face, hand, ripple.

I cannot be her without
You swimming my depth –
I am,
Evaporating.

IW

(Oceans – Part One, of eight)
(Oceans – Part Two, of eight)

Wet

The door swung, shutting the stifling air around the voices raised in the chaos that happens when water fills the sky. Affirmation of their worthiness sought in every gesture, ‘am I heard, seen, felt?’ I smile whimsically at the interactions, knowing the place in memory, of strutting peacocks and hens in their mating dance. All eyes are on the young man that had just entered as he shakes his head playfully to shrills of objection, and stands central like a stag on parade. Young woman ridicule, reprimand, and giggle at the event and he looks at me raising his brow. ‘See, I told you, you are just a pup,’ I think I thought, but say out loud ruffling the still surprisingly wet hair. The coolness between my fingers apparent in it’s contrast to how hot it has become and the dryness in my voice indication of how wet everything suddenly seems.    

IW