Hope You Can See.
Is it not amazing?
The swaying movement like tall grass in the summer breeze. A drop, a splash, a ripple, a pattern, a view a brain couldn't sketch without the eye seeing it. It sank deep into my skin like a blade cutting through my vain.
Like the birth of the son when he saw the sun for the first time and the pain in his eyes as the blades cut deeper and deeper. It was there before time started ticking, before darkness turned to light and waters flowed down Victoria.
It walked alone,