Concrete, metal and wood, the light is grey. I Smear the taste on my palate, follow all the bumps and curves.
I become the taste, I dissolve into all these triggers. No understanding just a feeling to open myself, to give. Flesh is as irrelevant as the textures.
Some said I have lost who I was, they meant they lost who they saw. They reach me sometimes and demand something I can’t be. A vanquished reality in each salt water drops, soothe by a smile, your smile.
I am not lost, not now. Each experience is a sanctuary, damp or dry, bright or dark. If I finally surrender it is to life, how petty or grandiose it appears, ever changing.
I am the world, I almost disappear in the surroundings, but not quite. It changes me and, I so ever slightly, change it.
Will they forgive the distortions because some of me remains within hell bent realities thrown at me?
But it matters no more because of your smile.