Water's time is indescribable, untouchable. Her life is inconceivable. She's defined by her past, while she walks in a sea of black and blue ashes. Her love for the most precarious soul possible is a bitter antidote for the inevitable haunt of flames and tears. Of regret and blood. Of weakness and worthlessness. When bliss shines she cannot represent it with words. She'll become speechless while she dances on a bed of hushed explanations. She craves satisfaction, but from what does she hope to gain it? She doubts she's capable of controlling Her future. Her strands of details, sewing Her picture of the shifting present. Sweet realization of strength will rise. Though only after she overcomes her blind interpretations and insecure recognitions, she'll hold that acknowledgment of power. No matter how much changes throughout her experience, one thing will remain. She will always see him.
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