Stay

When reality hinges on the frailest of moments and truths. When the entire room is held down by your presence. When the yellow of your shirt has more meaning than all the world combined. When the only thing that gives meaning to the crows crowing, the light filtering through the window, the used tea bag drying up on the saucer and the empty packet of cigarettes is your presence. And if you were to get up and walk outside all things would loose meaning, sense of purpose, order and direction. All objects, sounds, shadows need you to fulfill their destinies to keep on being windows, doors and shadows. If you were to walk out what would stop the sofa from turning upside down? What would stop the paintings on the wall to become maddened with frenzy and start throwing themselves at each other. From the crowing of the crows to become deafening. Who would keep the arches, corners, objects and sounds from ripping each other asunder and devouring all sense and meaning?

24th Feb 2020