A summer night

A summer night.
Humidity and an unnaturally silent concrete pavement dragged me down to my room.

My small toy called reason, which fixes around bugs in my brain and in my heart, gradually slowed down until it could not resist the gravity of my existence any further.

Then, it sunk deep into the center.
After it fell with a soundless sound, and all its ripples and vibrations are gone, only silence and darkness remained.

Yet, as eyes and ears stabilized once again so that I could tell my exhalation hit the wall and come back, I still felt something intruding on my vast surface of calm water.
So, I shut down the door which I'd open for winds to blow.

Why am I here?
Nothing shined anymore; afterimages blurred and diminished in the darkness. 

Streaming down a trunk and diffusing through a layer of fallen leaves were droplets: isolated fragments of my sea. They were encroaching on a little fire.

Each string of filaments shivered like sands on the shore waiting to become one with the greater one.

Firewood was losing the dream of flame and was even at peace with their head going to the sky and their legs to the ground.

Until they heard the voice of water that made its way through an extended arc.

Never lose that fire in your soul.