I redrew that thing, this is what it turned into. I mentioned doing this in real ink, instead I drew it digitally, which is the most not-real ink of all. Except for disappearing ink. And that would have just been a waste of time. Question: what is the most not-real ink of all? Water!? *Mind blown*
Not sure how I’ll feel tomorrow but for now, I like it. I think this is a style I’ve been reaching toward but never fully realized until recently.
The divine in me greets
The divine in you.
When we hug
The little nebula glowing within you
Aligns with my own, warm and alive.
Everyone has the same basic needs.
We are all drawn with the same line,
Divided out of the same number,
Poured from the same bottle,
Leaves on the same tree.
We are all notes on the same violin
By the same composer.
We move together en masse
We murmurate like starlings
We are a tidal wave.
What kinds of things could we do
If we all leaned in the same direction
If we all jumped at once?
Could we tilt the world?
Anthony touched the pendant around his neck. It had been made for a girl, but he kept it under his shirt and nobody seemed to notice.
He felt the reassuring carved pattern. It was still there.
Last month he had almost left it at a friend’s house after using her shower. When he’d noticed it missing, he felt physically ill. Fortunately his friend had found it. She gave it back to him without questions. She hadn’t needed an explanation. She knew.
He rubbed his thumb over the pattern. It was wearing flat already from his constant fidgeting with it. He had to stop or it would break. He sighed. He couldn’t wear the necklace forever. It wouldn’t last. It was just a cheap dollar store necklace.
He could follow her.
He watched the blood pulse in his wrists. He felt the thumping of his heart. He relished the feeling of his active brain and functional, painless eyeballs.
She wouldn’t have wanted him to.
Tink.
The charm fell off of the necklace, and he caught it in his absently fiddling fingers without thinking. He fished it out of his shirt and examined it.
Bright red flowers. The small plastic loop which connected it to the chain had finally torn through.
He would never be able to repair it.
A thousand orioles picked us up
And dropped us off on the cliffs of Moher.
The surf is white the stone is beautiful
The overcast makes the green glow with health
I see you you see me
We’re in synchronicity
Now how to get back to the city
Off these damn cliffs of Moher.
A thousand orioles congregated
They built a nest for you and me.
We can’t afford a roof
Instead this is what our love hath wrought.
Let us sit together
And suck eggs.
Ireland is falling into the ocean
Rock by rock by rock
We think we’re living
But we’re dying
The sea is rising
We’re compromising
Rock by rock by rock
Rocking in each other’s arms
On the motherfucking
Godforsaken
Desolate cliffs of Moher.
Something odd I just drew. Enjoyed drawing the impossible lines. Maybe I’ll redraw it with nice ink and paper, if I get the gumption.
Sarah D. Silvey 