the river’s presence.

Markus Spiske;

I wish I have a pair of lips as soothing as the water that flows in your favorite river—that it may build the letters you need to hear to calm your heart. But within these tangled feathers of your dreamcatcher, I get caught and the two of us just become lost. The rain outside taps the window of my room, but your dreadful sobs kill their solemn tunes, and I am more worried than ever.

I close my arms around your trembling body and let your head rest on my chest. I inhale the vanilla scent of your hair and close my eyes, pretending not to be ripped apart by your cries and woes. Maybe later when the stars wake up to shed you their bleeding light would your lungs be still. But I want to be the reason of your catharsis, and not some otherworldly help. I search for ways, but the only gesture I can find is to lie on the bed with you.

And I apologize, dear, if the only gift I can give to you is my presence.


Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.


let me hold your words before you leave;

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