Illusion Hacked
Just for a blink…
Teasing time, I stuff a few days’ worth of sensing into a few moments. The deep whisper of the ocean teaches me more than all my scores and scars. I shed clothes, shame, worries and self. Just for a blink… Who cares when the clock’s been deposed and the sun is kind? The green seeps into my grey matter through my sage-coloured eyes, envious of the fresh grass chroma.
Every breath of the breeze on my unwrapped skin peels off craving and resistance. Layer by layer. My naked acceptance — so exposed, so vast — demands no effort, as this instant is free of flaws. There’s nothing my boxed mind would change.
I say goodbye to thoughts while they merge with waves retreating into the liquid expanse. No trace. No identification. No sorrow over the drowning units of my mental voltage. They are no more than tingling in my hands, sounds tickling my eardrums, aromas kissing my nose, the dance of light and shadow on the retina. All are mere droplets in the cloud of consciousness — subjective, recondite. An endless recreation of my reality. A matrimony between my i-ness and the mise en scène of life.
The ticking swirl will drag me away, back to the inescapable tyranny of seconds galloping through my allotted existence. I’ll be chained by finitude, dominated by fear. Later…
But now… another walk-size eternity. My feet, unhurried, caress the ground. My head — a delicious, weightless cotton candy. The senses reach beyond the horizon of perception, stretching the known. Just for a blink…
© Masha Zubareva 2023
Big thank you to the team of Scrittura for the chance to pour out my mind.
