PHOTOGRPAH BY JOHANNES PLENIO
Deathbed
T
you. And I wonder where I fit into the scene. Or maybe I don't fit at all.
You brush your thumb over the back of my hand, a soft caress, a comfort that I long when my joints are creaking, a litany of aches and pains amassing through the years. You rest your head upon my shoulder, feeling the slow rise of your chest like a rhythmic beat beneath my head. Selfishly, I card my fingers through your lightly tinged strands with our feet swinging over the edge of the cliff. I gaze at the water below. It reaches desperately towards the rocks, but the stacks refuse to bow, and the water retreats into itself, only to attempt it again. The sun reflects off of the water, blinding, pretty, like
I'm old, I know. It will be the final time where the world ceases to turn for me, where everything will slow; the pulse, the driving rhythm, the people, the stars, the black holes until it will all fade to nothing. It will be the last time I get to look into your eyes and convey what they want to say. It will be the last time for me to hold you close and feel the warmth of your touch, to smell your hair, to see you smile. It breaks my heart into pieces because I know that even death can't stop me from missing you and it breaks my heart a little more to know that I’ll leave you behind with nothing but our cherished memories from the past.
of time to be with you. To wake up with your hands wrapped around me in an embrace, to kiss your lips and taste your mouth, to hear your laughter like ringing bells on my ears. But death is inevitable and my time’s running out. My sun's final embers go up, my stars no longer to burn. Your lips graze on my lips one last time, with limpid eyes that I thought the Earth no longer needs the sea, with a sad smile and the lovely humming of birds flying nearby before everything fades out like it’s in a movie, the real world stuck behind. I feel like floating beyond reality, between the glittering city lights; staring down at the rushing waves, watching everything with unseeing eyes as the smoke of burning clouds starts to grey.
As I stand on the exit door of existence, like the waves desperately reaching for the rocks, I wish for another moment, desperately running for a grasp
—MKL ARCHELAUS
he world goes up in flames as we sat back and watch with our hands interlocked. I squint at the sunset—my eyes are not as good as what it once was, but I can still remember how glorious the colors of the setting sun are as they reflected on your amber-colored eyes that set my heart ablaze.
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My world dies out in flames, though there's no fear. You’re here till my time is over. Stay with me, dear.
VOL. 1, ISSUE 1 AUGUST 2020
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