I couldn't manage the entire theme this week. I took the first three letters (res) and reservoir became my theme instead. In medias res. Flung into the middle of something which is broken. I can't show you what was here before or what will be here after - only what exists in this moment: a reservoir.
Reservoir
Shopping mall floor sparkles. Almost an ice rink.
Flashes of forced cheer – remnants of the other world
Creep around the edges of one-way windows:
Holly, snow, mistletoe tokens
But even these small reminders are belittled by the vulgarity of the four letter word
SALE
No aroma survives the sterilisation of the consumer habitat
(so many bodies, so little kissing)
Pheromones extracted for expediency
All lust to be directed towards the inanimate
Unseen in the throng, in the flock, is a wolf
Or maybe she is a bear
No – look closer into her eyes
She is a reservoir, a man-made pool
Remarkable, this semblance of a woman.
See how she moves across the would-be rink;
Weaves among the congregation
Like a mother buying education with false morality
She doesn’t belong.
Winter Wonderland’s echo smothers her burbling
Anyone could touch her, dip into the pool,
But they maintain a state of organised distraction
This is an irrelevance. The abyss is unavoidable.
The reservoir reveals herself on the tiles.
Frozen water like a diamond in her throat.
Fingertips damp and restless at her chest.
Reaching towards that point in her centre which contains the source.
Heretical eyes erode the mask
The reservoir reaches into her heart and dislodges the fragment, loosens the façade.
Trembling, this unhappy cascade holds her form for a moment in the air
Human fountain, filling a jumble of saturated woollens
– empty and bursting – a sodden paradox.
She is slipping. Slipping beneath. Slipping away.
A puddle on the sparkling floor.
She is lost.
Shopping mall floor sparkles. Almost an ice rink.
A yellow sign marks the spot of her descent –
CAUTION: Slippery when wet
Reservoir
Shopping mall floor sparkles. Almost an ice rink.
Flashes of forced cheer – remnants of the other world
Creep around the edges of one-way windows:
Holly, snow, mistletoe tokens
But even these small reminders are belittled by the vulgarity of the four letter word
SALE
No aroma survives the sterilisation of the consumer habitat
(so many bodies, so little kissing)
Pheromones extracted for expediency
All lust to be directed towards the inanimate
Unseen in the throng, in the flock, is a wolf
Or maybe she is a bear
No – look closer into her eyes
She is a reservoir, a man-made pool
Remarkable, this semblance of a woman.
See how she moves across the would-be rink;
Weaves among the congregation
Like a mother buying education with false morality
She doesn’t belong.
Winter Wonderland’s echo smothers her burbling
Anyone could touch her, dip into the pool,
But they maintain a state of organised distraction
This is an irrelevance. The abyss is unavoidable.
The reservoir reveals herself on the tiles.
Frozen water like a diamond in her throat.
Fingertips damp and restless at her chest.
Reaching towards that point in her centre which contains the source.
Heretical eyes erode the mask
The reservoir reaches into her heart and dislodges the fragment, loosens the façade.
Trembling, this unhappy cascade holds her form for a moment in the air
Human fountain, filling a jumble of saturated woollens
– empty and bursting – a sodden paradox.
She is slipping. Slipping beneath. Slipping away.
A puddle on the sparkling floor.
She is lost.
Shopping mall floor sparkles. Almost an ice rink.
A yellow sign marks the spot of her descent –
CAUTION: Slippery when wet