I remember the first time I met the world
and decided to shake its hand.
I saw it there, across the room — surrounded by less luminous faces. Engulfed in shorter bodies eager to touch it yet still so alone.
I felt thoughtful as I watched. I wanted to understand how something so singular could flash so many faces — some ugly, some entrancing, some sobering, some terrifying, some that sparked a bright eyed hysteria.
From where I stood, I could see them all. How the openness of its Cheshire cat smile and marble eyes seemed to sweep my frozen body into its undercurrent. How my body came to a screaming halt as hungry flames spouted from the openness. My skin felt like bark under a thousand caterpillars, the water in my eyes fell like rain propelled by hurricane wind until
A wave warm and smooth lapped over me. Melted sunshine, sublime, blanketed everything and washed back to sea, leaving my eyes sugared in color and feeling like love.
My head raised to a world of woozy red. I saw it there and no one else.
Us two in the room — closer now.
