Those skirts I’ve seen in town. They’re buckets full of water. Don’t tell anyone please… we need more fluids than skirts.
“But a kid, haven’t you foreseen their future?“
Not that it matters, not from skirts. What are they supposed to do? Eat those skirts?
I whispered on 7 rings of candles, heart of tragedy, they whispered back even howled.
Nothing against mushrooms I’ve seen one, but I heard them.
Everyone who knows this thing thought I lost my path of sanity, bet you do.
I wonder why it hasn’t come yet, there must be traffic along the way for me.
“More like a tragic, you must say, it's not going to happen, stop”.
No.
Walking down the town of skirts, I found a token, it was nothing for skirts but everything for my palm.
I called the stranger I caught looking back while passing by the bridge staircase, I need help. He was smiling upon approaching, as if expecting to get caught in the right moment.
He looked at my open palm with obvious distance and approval, with intent “There must be a tale on their redness, have you ever seen one?” a grin with grim eyes, he smiled seeing my confusion.
Redness, ah! Must be the colour of my palm, of course red is not a silvery coined colour like this token, right?
“It’s pink, my palm is pink '' With animosity he took off his hat and bowed down as a gentle sheet in contrast to his scissory look.
“Forgive me, it was the coin, it's red, where did you find it? My respect is onto you. Look closely, what colour did you see?” Red? What did I see? Isn’t it silver? I laughed and bowed down before closing my palm in a switch of holding them between my two fingers to make a point between us that it wasn’t red.
Looking for any red on the coin, I laughed and took more glances. I fought back in will as I’ve seen his expression unchanged, waiting.
“This is silver, look” before I hold it down. It wasn’t “Perhaps you are colour blind that’s okay I don’t have much clear sight either”.
“No, maybe it was a mistake,” he guessed. And yes, it was. Forget the coin because I forget why I ever take his stances “I called you because I need your help, where’s the shutter’s garden of fountain?” If they can’t stop the stupidity, I will.
“Let’s stop talking about this token, it’s just a token”. Last glance in silvery fortune before placing them in hide.
But wait—what are we talking about again? I forgot something.
And waait “wait, why its green, its green, it turned not red nor even silver”. My confusion darted to the coins, I looked at them closely, it's not green, “No, it's purple, it changed” my bad.
“How about the pink palm of yours, isn’t it changed” is he for real? “And how will my palm be in another colour other than this?” What's the connection?
“Just checking your senses up, I’ve seen red, and I am not going to back down on it, and you need my help”. Yes, I do.
“What’s up with the change of colour?” he shrugged his shoulders as he led the way to the place I am looking for.
“Apparently, I’m just a random but don’t lose that coin, there’s a tale of losing one and it's tragic, I’ve seen red, so I can see where this journey ends and somehow different from yours”.
I think you’re not random, really? Red turner?
“I’ll call you Red turner rather random” he winked “So do I, Ms. Palm”.
Following his turn, I found the fountain and their place. I've heard stories about this one but not this awful.
Contagious grey, ashes of dead plants, floors prickled with pendulum summit surrounded on the grand staircase, a palace without ceilings, without stead ground, with no dryness and was made of glass. It was the look you took upon catching fish placed in an aquarium, was set in stone and glasses took their mask pieces off in shards to give happy accidents on anyone who wished to walk with it barefoot.
I’ll walk barefoot onto it, as part of the process stepping on fountain lanes, at the centre, upstairs, lucid, and lucent
I could see the redness, a blood bath.
“Part of the process, as part of, are you sure?” he asked, began to be tense and be in great intensity while leading me the way. He then looked at me, I only smiled in excitement before walking barefoot.
First step was nothing, it was nothing when it all came true, this would be nothing.
I’ll take more pain, he held my hand along the way, waiting and stepping along the way with me.
“I promise, I will” is the only assurance I gave him for every turn of his glass set eyes.
Glass, a glass, it's not surfaced level wit as they seem, glasses, deep as dawn and slumber.
A glass like him is a crime to confide with, a crime to fake with but I still held on tight, tighter that I didn’t notice how it made him weak, how I made me in pain.
I am sorry…
I cannot voice it out, I can’t find my voice. I whispered, looking into his eyes. I’m sorry.
Wishing he would get it, wishing he would catch me.
We stopped at the edge of the bloodbath fountain.
I held his body and began to undress, slowly taking off my clothes, taking off my senses, taking off the masks I’ve been wearing. He looked at me in wild wander as how he’d smiled before approaching me, he was endearing, so dear. Oh,
I cupped his face, traced his glassy eyes, seeing my own shadows within these windows.
How is it feel to be,
what is it to be,
how it would be, to be
“I can’t take this anymore” he whispered in sudden before I saw myself inside his windows.
With birds’ chirp, we’ve found ourselves bathing, naked amidst the fountain life, amidst this bloody mess.
Losing our senses, losing every grip of our fluid, we kissed, sucking each other’s breath, until the last breath.
A second, I wish.
Letting go of the coin, letting go of these senses.
A second, he reminded me of someone. I wish.
We dropped them down enough for the place to be in fortune, enough for us to be freed.
Someone I deeply am. I wish.
We wished.
Posted on @deintywoodtales (dada on tumblr)
Deinty Woodtales © Amanda A.M, 2023