disillusioned

Caroline Péron: Water Walk, 2021

Black braids shimmered under blue fluorescent glow. Bemused fantasies tangled in tresses of weeds. I remember feeling numb. Lightheaded from constantly changing forms. Dizzied by heights, with tear-streaked eyes tired from whispered lies. I felt blue coral kiss the seabed and slowly circled a seemingly still figure.

Heaviness is a smothering blanket, and sadness is a still scream for air. Skin sinks like bleeding paint from colored faces; cruel palms smear views until hazy bokeh. My skin ripples like waves in the vibrancy of light metal gongs. As a misty figure skirts around lovingly. Privy with lust. Adorning with fleeting kisses, until fizzling into the background like dust.

Marble satin drapes a sheer figure. But chiseled perfection doesn’t breathe. How long is the struggle for air before slowly sinking underneath? Nights are spent grotesque in fetal position. As looming shadows superimpose fearful dreams. My mind is a gloriette of tulips besotted by consuming pitcher fields.

Marmoris. These oceanic feelings, like bobbing tides, rising and falling in my chest. Delirious wantings ignore squeamish feelings. Impunity, a gentle plead to keep away tears. I cradle longingly with grasping hands, a spirit torn from folly. Born from refusing to be reborn. Disillusioned and lost in inure. Meaninglessly finifugal.