11.3.08

osmose

it was cold and they were two, motionless more than stranded on an island.at arms length, they were alone. it didn't matter that they were friends, or strangers in the crowd, for their eyes would not meet nor their soul nod in silent understanding. and the rain would crash like waves on rocks, on the foundation beneath their feet. and soak and suck their way through leather, skin and bones, drenching and drying till their toes fold into flaccid creases.and it would be that water could penetrate their skin with far greater ease than the words spoken between them, bouncing off like rubber on glass, shot into infinite space,plunging to the ground. never heard. never understood.if only my words would fall like rain, she thought, silently.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I like this. The words come alive as it becomes easy to imagine.

pam ting said...

thanks : )