Open Your Eyes

Open your eyes

The light is everywhere.

Eyes see nothing.

The light is everywhere.

Step in the blight.

The light is everywhere.

Running now through the perilous light, searching sightless for a purity of existence that cannot be named or touched but only seen in the cracks between absolutes and nothings.

The light is everywhere.

Particles float and shield away the unforgiving radiance forming bridges for sightless eyes to cross into a realm of visions and forms distinguishable in the miniscule shadows cast by the collective particles.

The light fades.

The light flickers and the shadows sputter and structure ghosts into a shaky form viewable where the shades meet and the images take shape in a blaze like watchtowers lining a transient shore.

Open your eyes

She opens her eyes. The ceiling waves like water. She blinks. The walls ripple like pools. She rubs her eyes. The vision remains unchanged. She closes her eyes. Her eyelids are transparent like blurred glass. She traces a line, an eyelash, searching for a beginning, for a memory. A dream, she thinks, I must be sleeping for dreams have no past. She finds none inside her. An image flashes fleetingly: an eye made of cycloned clouds. A hand to her chest: she touches the place above her heart and it feels hot against her fingers. A sensation reminisces: a feeling of fullness. She tries to remember what happened before she opened her eyes and saw through walls like they were nothing more than murky water. Images and sensations fly past her in the flickering light of the dim candles, but she cannot touch or slow them down.

‘You’re awake.’

It’s you, she says. She knows not where he appeared from or who he is. She meant to say, Who are you, but then she saw, or rather, felt his eyes and the way they swirled like clouds funnelling into an ageless cavern.

‘You’ve been asleep for days. I was afraid you wouldn’t make the transition.’

She stares at him feeling a sense of belonging, a connection binding her to him, but his words mean nothing. He walks to her side and she follows his movements, but does not see him as a form. Rather, he appears as a collective of images and sounds and smells swirling round a bright orb of light inside a structureless boundary formed by the collision of external shadows and his internal light. There are no shadows within him. She sees not a face but a kaleidoscope of sensations, and it exhilarates her.

‘What do you see?’ His voice, she sees the tones sinewave towards her and bounce off the forms in the room. It washes into her like she is the beach and he is the sea.

Everything, she says. A wave pours from her towards him, not like a tide, but like a feather blown by the wind.

‘Are you hungry?’

I want to watch a sun die, she says but knows not why, though she imagines it more satiating than anything that her mouth could consume.

He smiles at her but she sees not lips and cheeks or even teeth; she sees his ball of light flicker a bit more luminous and she senses warmth and tenderness spreading from him to her. He extinguishes the candles in the room one by one and she stares hungrily at every flicker. With each wick that turns from fire to smoke, she writhes with a pleasure unknowable. The light rips from the candles; ravenous in the bed, she tastes the fire of the dying light fill her wondering if it will ever be enough, if the bliss will reach satisfaction.

In the blackness of the room, she sees only where the light of him mixes with the dark. She soaks in the pleasure of the dead light and keeps writhing with ecstasy. He comes to her and he is inside, filling her. She clutches him in the dark and drives him deeper and deeper, faster and harder. He grabs her and holds her in place and says, ‘You belong to me.’ She screams, Take me.