Flash

The blue shade right before the bright comes out. I want to live there, in that new emerald blue. To live in a color is to feel a feeling forever. To live in a color is to fade, quick as a heartbeat, once the far moon, is shown full

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Like the last moments of a dying fire, or the fragment of tired that visits after a full November night. Like the sharp intense pain of a needle entering the vein, and how it is so loud and bright, and gone.

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I guess I’m feeling grateful that cameras suck. Because the effigy created after that bright flash will never be as stark as the silhouette against my eye. A sea foam sunset could never betray me if she is only around in time to say hello and goodbye.

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I want to live in the change, with those who will care. Those who listen to the gentle rhythmic drum inside, and decide to orchestrate the noise. For, when we are a victim of the change, I choose to do it again

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Unfitting marble

Maybe that is why death is so alluring. Not because life is so bad, or because the afterlife could be so great. It’s that middle moment that is so attractive. Past the pain and entertaining the end. Getting pulsed through a line of nothing or something.