June 1st Freewrite *While Listening to The Moon Song*

We're here, a million miles away.

Sitting here softly,
soft yellow lamplight,
soft blue of a dying day.
Soft music in my ears,
soft voice,
soft chords.

There's things I wish I knew.

Peace is such a strange and transient feeling.
When it comes, it wraps its arms around you,
it breathes quiet whispers of quiet words,
and suddenly you feel the unbearable weight of the now in your heart,
all the beauty that will never again collide in this order.
You see the moment as a memory already.
The gold and fading indigo of a nighttime room,
the suggestion of a chill on your skin.
Maybe you'll forget the song, the name of the song,
the notes and the words.
But you won't forget how it feels,
right here, right now.

Salt Skin

Fill the bath halfway.
Water hot.
Steam rising.
Pour salt.

Swirl with foot.

Is it dissolved?
Yes.
Step in.
Sit down.
Silence.
Feel the salt on your skin.
Silence.
Do you hear the ocean?
Silence.
You breathe and the water moves.
Back and forth.
In and Out.
Do you feel the tides?
Silence.
Drops of sweat roll down your face.
Feel the salt on your skin.
Silence.
Lick your upper lip.
Taste the salt on your tongue.
Do you hear the ocean?
Silence.
Stand up.
Pull the drain.
Rinse the salt off your skin.
Silence.

3.31.14