from Aphra to police checks.

 

Him.

Yesterday was robust and steady in it's form. little steps, moving like some prelude to some great leap forward; except for that which sat behind the tongue; Gathering full force with it's own silence. Awaiting the first note. Shapeless and heavy within it's own weight, squat behind the never been said, but continually replayed. I don't remember when it first stuck, except to say that I was small, and still standing on two good legs, that for the most part still walked straight. But something stopped the momentum ; turned the light to grey. Something rooted me in, tied me to this spot, and put me in my place. But even then, low within the quiet, a storm weathered on. Rampantly defying- as big and black as any storm that he owned. Quietly, uncomfortably, it settled. Concealed below ground- waiting in it's new home. And wise it was  to lock it's self down, to hunker in, and curl up, hardening like a ball. Curing and tempering with the time, forgetting what happened, but somehow still quite remembering it all. Till one day, dying on it's prominence, in the rancour of forgotten speech, tangible within invisible emanations it would finally learn not to speak, Defiance curled, defiance worn within a mouth, as a new as the day was born. A reminder to the bland at heart , that beyond the beauty of the rose, inside their dwells a thorn. MB