Textures #27


it’s late at night. as i lie down to sleep i become aware that it started to rain outside. my window has been open all day as the days get hotter and more humid as the month of may unfolds. i spend the sleepless nights picking up bugs that come into my room attracted by the sweetness of my insomnia. i push them onto a piece of paper and gently push them onto the window sill back into nature. the spider that has webbed its livelihood in the top right hand corner of the window i leave in peace. she will be gone with the dull light of morning. as i close my eyes the rain pours through my skin, dissolving the tiredness, the frustration and the fears from my bones into the mattress. i think: ‘the rain falling on the leaves is what life in its purest form must feel like’. i stop being me. i stop being human, being a woman, and i become the humid air emanating form the hot asphalt. i become the drop of rain that slips off the leaf onto the grass and the stream of water that forms at the curb of the road. i become the sounds of the night and the sounds of the night become me. i drift into oblivion wishing to dream of you.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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