the still now (2020)
By Matthew W.F. Senior
Our forest became still, amplifying the enchanted sounds of the Earth; the birds were singing, the leaves were falling, the sunlight filtered through trees. Purity rolled across the escape. Hesitant, the sky opened entirely, and plumes of stars shot gracefully across the clear view. Stood in that memory, in absolute stillness, I surrendered to nature's source - she was always going to sound like pure magic. Absorbing those powerful surroundings, trapped in awe, the wind fell silent, then stopped completely. When all is stripped away, only purpose remains.
Deep within the distance, past the divide beyond the edge of the green, where the air is knotted, time moves free - as though lost within a photograph, captured through a fractured lens - and from this divide, emerged a man of my height, mimicking my fabric, wearing my smile. Pressing his shadow tight against his chest, fox-red strands tumbled effortlessly over her shoulders, floating downward across her spine, eventually spilling atop his arms. Her eyes, burnt into his subconscious, gripped his ultimate desire, and together, they built moments; together, they shared time. If you take something beautiful and break it in two - you only increase the number of beauty in the world (although when whole, what you have is concentrated, unstoppable opulence in the form of lust). Snow blossoms melted into fruition; glimmers of enigmatic purpose bubbled away, embracing the fragility of a moment - subtle, understated, essential. Stillness echoing all along the way - without her, the picture would be incomplete.
I like to imagine, that they dream. His whispers exploded: "Never stop looking for me".
And I felt content knowing that all I had to do, was wait.
- M x
This was written in two separate moments, following two separate bursts of inspiration.