I walked in minding every step, as walking in a room completely in the dark,
yet the morning light irradiated intensely from the wide window, eventually reached the stairs and gripped the banister. Finally, decided to climb the stairs and every single one felt higher and higher, while the rain hit the skylight high above. A different light filtered through the upper floor, a sort of dirty one, where folding chairs and easels would stand disorganized.
People started to wonder in. I would like to grab my coat and slip out of the room down, I thought, away from there. I open a window instead and a car splashed passing on the rain.
There was a tiny smear when I looked suddenly down. Had the heart in my throat. It was my grandmother's? Felt my fingers like ten small wights pulling downward, I remember her shriveled hands lying on her chest at the hospital.
Sometimes I have nightmare this wasn't one. But eventually realize when I woke up that in fact, it was. You were in the woods, the cold air at our behinds, steam rose from the snow
gray, almost imperceptible like the ocean on a sunless day. A siren sounded in the distance, just as my brother, I mean your brother opened his mouth to speak, the dream broke off and I woke up in the darkness of the bedroom, rain was pit-pattering against the glass of the my window. I threw off the sheets and stumble across the rooms. I caught sight of one, full of books, in the beginning there's the habit of marveling at everything, with each day that passes increases our capacity of indignation, beholding my fists, hold on the anger for the strategic time, when blinded a little less by the beauty of a possible world.
Occasionally when you look at me, bewildering a little door or window opens into my morning.
I dreamed that my theeth crumbled off. Look what I rustled, in dreams I can whisper and spring up some iambic verses. A feeling of hesitation nudges my heart. One day I'll laugh and tell a riddle to our children. This idea makes everything snap out in focus. One of those moments that happen when our eyes lock in a stare. The way you make me smile tutting your lips and wink your eye at me, pretending to be just passing time doodling, in a absent minded way or your hand reaches unexpectedly the skin of the back of my neck, while I look at the window and the train finds the riverbed.
m.
