If anyone’s been wondering why I’m not commenting on their site, please don’t think I don’t love you. I’m still trying to figure out where my work/life/blog balance lay. One magical day I will figure out how to work full time and write full time and play full time all at once.
Today, for your viewing pleasure, we have another collaborative masterpiece by Cowdog Creatives and myself.
When something reaches inside of you
It causes a ripple.
If you are properly filled
This ripple is enough to spill over
Trickling out in warm saltwater.
abandoned
all around her is emptiness
dark emptiness
where there should be pulsing warmth,
gentle voices of her parents talking to her
instead the cold leeches her skin
she is unwanted
she can’t comprehend
this bright pain
this un-flesh
splitting her from their joined bodies
cutting away the comfort of her mother.
mute, half-formed,
what she mourns she does not know.
she grieves her past, present, and future
loneliness stops her heart.
Wild horses wander
And toss their tangled manes
Outside the Tesla Gigafactory.
One of the largest buildings in the world
Housing the highest technology
A windowless plain white rectangle
Capped with solar panels
Built to withstand earthquakes
Facing down desert heat
A testament to human ingenuity and engineering.
Those who look upon it feel a swell of awe.
This could get us out of the hole
Into which we have dug ourselves.
1.9 million square feet
Of hope for the future.
Birds pass over it as they glide miles
Lizards squeeze shut their eyes, soaking in sun
While horses step slowly forward, nosing the scrubby grass
Immune to the magnificence
Seated at the edge of the wide Nevada desert.
Ba-thump.
His infant daughter gripped his fingertip with her whole hand. Linda was small, fragile, beautiful, everything in the world. All he wanted was to protect her.
Ba-thump.
Looking directly into Mary’s eyes for the first time. He’d never had the courage to talk to her until now. Her eyes were pthalo blue.
Ba-thump.
Speeding around the curves on his motorcycle, feeling the freedom, roaring wind in his ears drowning out all grief.
Ba-thump.
Standing before the congregation to deliver his final sermon. Odd that he would be nervous now, considering he’d stood here many times before with ease, even boredom.
Ba-thump.
Coming under the blankets just as his mom opened the door. Had she seen? She grabbed his laundry and left nonchalantly. No way to tell. She was a master of polite pretense.
Ba-thump.
Kissing Mary’s lips at their wedding.
Ba-thump.
Kissing Mary’s brow at her funeral.
Ba-thump.
The car rolling over him.
Ba-thump.
Cold.
Ba-thump.
He hadn’t bungee jumped yet. Linda had begged him until he promised she could go, but only if he came along to supervise. She was more brave than he’d ever been.
Ba-thump.
In utero, everywhere pulsing. The voices of his parents carried through to him, muddled by protective walls of warm flesh. “Let’s sing for him,” his father said. His mother laughed. Soon the comforting vibrations of familiar song thrummed into his core. He hadn’t understood what he’d heard at the time, but he recognized the hymn now.
His heart skipped a beat.
Instead of catching, his heart missed the next beat as well.
This pavement was cruel. He was frightened. It hurt. Something was very, very wrong with his body. It felt unbearably still, without a heartbeat.
Linda. He needed to stay here for Linda. He willed his heart into action one more time.
Ba…thum.
Vision flickering. As his consciousness mingled red with the motor oil and spread down the road, somebody took his hand. Maybe it was impossible, but it felt like his father’s grip.
Sarah D. Silvey 