R:”Before we enter.”
He’s going to put another wristband around my…
Wrist?
R:”Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
P:”I don’t want to be shocked.”
R:”…”
P:”…”
We get in.
Cool…
Cool atmosphere.
Cooler than last time.
That’s what my indicator tells me.
Nope.
It’s still sleeping.
Hey.
Wake up.
R:”Are you playing with…”
P:”You never know.”
T:”You returned.”
P:”It’s not the same building.”
R:”Maybe I should give you a collar.”
P:”Maybe I should give you a collar.”
R:”What for?”
P:”It’s sexy.”
T:”Would you take a sit?”
We get on armchairs in front of her.
R:”Are you focused?”
P:”On?”
She quits her seat.
And walks through the room.
That’s a big room.
She doesn’t need to walk much.
T:”Autumn.
Her Purple Mantle.
Drenched.
Exquisite.
Her perfume exudes her intentions.
A call.
Amplitude.
Quietness.
And a droplet of fresh water.
A call for the senses.”
Call…
T:”She bears this fragrance of eternity.
Bearing & Born.
Her body.
This vessel, falls.
You watch.
From the surface of the Pond.
You stare at her.
Her dream ends.
With Dusk.”
A Call.
T:”Summer.
Her Red Cape.
Embroidered in clouds.
Shining.
Solemn.
Entitled.
From the purple aura.
Which she tears.
She brings.
The odor of triumph.
A shunning scent.
A frightening scent.
She uncovers the mysteries of Blood.
She plunges.
Deep in the essence of Nature.
Bearing, striking.
Rage.
The animalistic Soul.
Her body, this weapon, falls.
On the surface of the Pond.
Her dream ends.
With Dawn.”
This call.
T:”Spring.
Her Green Wings.
Anew.
A crown too large.
A dress too ample.
A broach on her chest.
Too heavy.
Accessories hiding the little body.
Barely grown.
And already, capable to feel.
Their sensual fragrance.
A need for romance.
The will to fly.
To reach the foreign star.
Afar in the infinite.
Between warmth & cold.
She learns the ways of the World.
A tear.
On the surface of the Pond.
The Prime of a Dream.
But her wings are still closed.”
My mouth opens.
T:”Speak.”
P:”…”
T:”You need to.
These words are needed.”
P:”…”
She watches me.
Her lips ask me something.
There’s nothing in my brain.
T:”Winter.
Her Blue Soul.
Blooming.
A scent.
The Mind.
A Culture.
A Path.
A Call.
Another Call.
Another Face.
Misplaced.
Lacking.
Forbidden maybe.
Ignored, surely.
The scent of Reform.
The deepest change.
Progressive.
Complete.
A Contest.
She is competing.
To surface.
Holding to…
This whirling piece of mind.
She bears this fragrance of eternity.
Bearing & Born.
A light, alight.
Of light, revolute.
Her body, this vessel, falls.
On the surface of the Pond.
Her dream ends.
With Dusk.
The Eve of a Dream.
Wasn’t she part of this Pond?
Wasn’t she born hereby?
…
4 dreams end.
4 seasons have passed.”
P:”Where is she?”
R:”?”
L:”She?”
T:”Be patient…
Articulate for us…”
R:”Hey.”
P:”…”