Reflecting, the world is not as it seems. Appearing static on the great flow, images distorted, golden lines blurred, wrinkled colours shiver in my eyes.
A vague impression of what really is the shimmering surface hiding darkness below, in the cool depth another world lives. Where our survival, impossible while other life thrives in a cold realm.
For those moments, illusory time that held me captive, I fell in love with Narcissus’ trap, the vision on the surface.
I knew it was a passing flirtation of light, I was happy to believe, to escape the up standing world and accept the lie, of the reversal of life on a river that runs to the city and sea.
