it spoke to me violently, and realized: just like years before.
the light bouncing and reversing from my ocular sensories and outward to give me clarity that, yes, this—she—was familiar; and transmuting between distinct and simultaneously identical matrices of beauty all carrying with them the same old, uniform, immediate, and primal understanding of familiarity; and the smile that…
complete, utter loss for words.
the sun loped away, and the cool amber sting’s acquaintanceship coerced itself into warm, insatiable thirst. at last, words were found. each perfect.
for a moment, the surge of life, and love of it, suffused itself into memory—so: this is what it was like. somehow I had forgotten, how could something so cripplingly beautiful be forgotten.
I can’t remember, but I’m certain that time would know.
finally: alone; the surge a mere memory; an echo in a chamber, the origin long forgotten.
complete, utter loss for words,