The Stalker

Water, Water, everywhere.

Ambiguity of light.

Tepidness penetrates.

'It always has been a problem.'

A naive heart resonates to the silence.

Suddenness wakes me up.

Feeling water could be felt dry,

I hear squeaking of the gap between night and day.

A yawn comes out.

It washes up better than water.

Through a tear, I see some colours.

"I might have seen it somewhere."

Blink. It dries as a dream does.

Cough. It tries to throw up undigested desires.

Yawn. It wipes out daydreams.

Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong.

"I should get some coffee."

The wind under the door, and

Immediate stillness.

I hear giggling.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing." Hope replied.

"Say it."

He stands up and

Takes a glance at outside.

Mixed colors are attached to the blurred window.

It looks like noise.

"The rain might stop on the stroke of the deepest night."

He goes downstair.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Thud. Thud. Dong. Thud.

Dong. Thud. Thud. Dong.

Dong - Dong -

Pretending nothing happened,

An old clock tower stares somewhere.

I see a painter looking up.

I see a poet hearing it.

But the minute hand flicks the past off

Acting like machinery,

Trying to forget helpless meanings.

Tick -

It moves to 8:01.

"It works!" I begin laughing histerically.

"This refulgence!

This ambiguity!

Vagueness!

Oblivion!"

Pouring raindrops beat.

Gushing teardrops stream.

"Now every single thing is glittering!"

I cry myself to sleep.

Silence, the essence of light.

Submerged, a dried up straw keeps its stillness.

Water, Water, everywhere but undrinkable.

Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong.

A naive heart resonates.

I hear giggling.