The History of an Engagement with φιλια (cont.)

Chapter IV. (cont.)

I think I saw you in my sleep, darling. I think I saw you in my dreams,* Green Girl. You were with Rosary and I felt touch. A return to our gentler years. Green Girl, I was looking into your eyes for the first time since the season passed. Since our apocalypse. Since the time when love was not enough.** When dimly. When trumpets. When convictions, followed by the escalation of rage: flashes of red, the screaming, the running out the door. The change leftover from childhood now utterly spent, the fabric of the walls ripped to shreds with those screams. Eyes watering, might I go blind. Might I be blind. Your pills and your booze a tornado in my head. Our conversation, a tsunami. First comrades in holy war, now rivals in bitter jihad. I screamed Medic! My friend is dying is she dead or am I dead. Those walls were painted in green blood. Oppression over a bag of pistachios snapped my grace that cried to keep giving us time. When they pulled me out–when it was over, I kept wondering how many voices did you have. Which of them were speaking to me in our first year. Which of them were speaking to me on your bunk bed wet with tears. Which of them were speaking to me in finality on that red night. My dear comrade, we were fallen. Pink paint splattered on our faces, but our wings so sore and torn. Two girls coughing to keep our heads above the crowd, trying to offer my arm for your hands. How desperately could I try to sling your nightmares on my back. Riptide, I watched the way your eyes dissociated. Then the inevitable attack, grab, pulling under of the attempted rescuer. But I am born, and my own fear of drowning gasped for me to untangle. When they let the line down, I grabbed it, best as cold hands could, choking. Did not look back, feared I would turn into my own pillar, rigor. Yet the memories are before me, like the flowers you gave me after he disappeared. My thought that you were in my life, for life, now upside down and withering. Yet wondering is still before me, where did I leave you, could you keep your head above water. So when I say I saw you in my sleep, believe it, darling. And when I say you were in my dreams, believe it, Green Girl.

*La Dispute, “Such Small Hands”
**Giver:, “C.O.C.”

One thought on “The History of an Engagement with φιλια (cont.)

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s