Let The Water Be

Let The Water Be

There is a river that flows inside each of us. Some rivers are deeper than others. Some are wider and more accommodating. Some rivers are murky and polluted. (A lot of strange things can be found in them). Sometimes a river is where sadness comes to rest. Sometimes it carries things away. But always rivers are important for life, and all rivers must flow. Let the water be the water and it will wear away the stones. Let the water be the water and it will bear away the bones. Let the water be the water, and flow out to the sea. Let the water be the water, just let the water be.

©️ JM Tiffany

The Spaces Between

Eyes wet and wide, she swayed, dismayed, her broken heart lurching in its pretty cage.

From hope to havoc, her sister’s ship had sunk into gray waters off the coast.

A bitter tenderness burned with the vividness of bare nerves as she said her last goodbye.

The sun had risen in the Midwest and set at last in her heart.

There would be black dresses and strangers, flowers and cards, and children who wouldn’t remember who she couldn’t forget.

A candle of memory she kept lit with warm days and childish games, her unspoken words like shadows in the spaces between sleep and pain.

©️ JM Tiffany

S͓̽E͓̽I͓̽S͓̽M͓̽I͓̽C͓̽

Hypnotic and flowing, we were enfolded in a torrid feast of listless, writhing chastity. Blooming spirals of need formed the tender abrasion of our pleasures. Interwoven, we held each other, our hands trembling with the newness of youth. Imprisoned by the holy constraints of our good intentions, we rained corrosive kisses over the bonds of our fevered hearts. Rapture invited the disdain of angels as we tempted eternity with the softest of touches. The magnetic blush of Nature eroded the pristine walls.

Light spilled through a widening crack as seismic pressures split the world and cast us tumbling into the glowing rift. © JM Tiffany

Collision

Before the collision their two minds had danced very close.

He saw her masks and the forms she took had filled the void within him.

The earth shook with the beat of their hearts as their lips sang beautiful maladies.

Their transparent thoughts were filled with light that no one else could see.

Sometimes they cried but, mostly, they drank, doused in the cold fire of anesthesia.

The ghost of her thoughts echoed in eyes as deep as any ocean.

He swam in them with awe and fear and sank just like a stone.

Tangled in waves of midnight hair, they drowned in one other.

And forgotten by all but the white of their bones, they slipped beneath the waves.

©️ JM Tiffany

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙀𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙮 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣

Sleep drops away quickly as I wake to a strange pain. Something is... Wrong... What is this? There is a lump in my side. I slide my shirt up over the tender bulge. It itches. A sparking, insistent discomfort. There is a deep knot of burning pressure welling beneath a taught dome of skin. A nascent infection? No. Something more malignant and protuberant. I pick the sore. It breaks open. Teeth clenched, I tenderly spread the wound. It weeps a turbid fluid. Beneath, a spider-shaped mass of dark matter, metallic and appalling, is embedded and spreading. Wincing, I prod it, and feel it spasm. Black brachiating filaments spread menacingly, a thousand stygian serpents tracing nerves and veins with fabulous velocity. Screaming, I thrash, until overtaken and writhing in terror. Its sardonic pulse syncs with mine until an odd numbness replaces concern. I feel it absorbing me. Is this how the gazelle feels in the lion's jaws? I should be… afraid. I should be… But I am consumed by the amorphous narcosis of conjunction until, pale and drooling, my simian brain is joined in black noesis to tens of thousands more. We have become nodes, synapses assembled into the new organs of an emerging god. As an alien mind awakens the senescent world is absorbed and… I… am… © JM Tiffany

November is Winter half-dressed and leaning seductively on October’s tomb.

©️ JM Tiffany