In a world that not been named, a man and woman held on their lips word formations of the forth coming generations. Without a single leaf, they both walked around the plains discovering new things. Planted or not, their eyes had been opened to understand the very structure of things made for hunger. Words could not be uttered, only hand motions: touch and breathe. As they walked a single thread attached to the back of their heads seamlessly followed along.
What was love when all they were all they knew? Waking up into each other’s existence. Questions were not needed. For names had not be harvested into thoughts.
A protective sturdy covered them both, so thick and full of layers that nothing not made from the purpose of the ways could puncture through.
So they stepped into tomorrow and saw death himself. The thread had been cut and nowhere, wherever, they looked could they find that protective shell.
A siren spirit rose up from the woman’s lungs rising high, a cry poured out from her lips.
Where is destiny?
Where have you hidden her?
Where may I find her?
Lost in the gold, she bathes
Lies of time”