Memory Fragments: Probity

Fish Of The Homeless River

I once was with a traveling caravan. With them, I performed, sang and danced all day
You may look at me now, as an old fish in a wheelchair, that that is almost ludicrous
Well, almost means possibility. And posible was among the things I did in many a play
Tumultuous and humorous. Yes, I was a tiny soul, raging against the river's numerous

Many were the days a rock crossed our path and almost sank our merry caravan
Many were the harpoons that tried to skewer us; serving talent on a silver plater
But we raged free and prideful. Without a home, and without being a slave to a fisherman
We were artists made our own. No market, no forced talent. There is nothing I would rather

When we taught each other the different dances and cultures to each other? Schooling
When we saw each other's words and gestures? It was wisdom in both motion and sound
Between you and me, the girls who danced raving and open, they always left me drooling
That is how I met your grandmother. I disguised myself as them! What a pretty scale I gowned

With my raging fire, I impressed her so much, she thought the river was going to dry up
She fell in love with one of her partners and, soon after, she requested me more and more
We always danced in a group. But she would rather dance in duet than have friends as backup
She was a lone gal. A solo storm with lightning crashing down and electrifying all to their core

When we danced together, fire and lightning combined making way to a plasmatic love
It burned! How it burned! The others were jealous, but we were a molten, hot-tempered duo
Why, one time we snuck out to the nearest shore and made roasts of many a plucking dove
Tastes good, not going to lie there. But we melted hearts, and always left no one to owe

Back then, people called me Hellfire and she was Maelstrom. Fitting names for our routine
It felt like hell-on-earth when I was on stage, yet her rage rained down and calmed me
More often than not, we were the main event of our caravan's shows. The perfect ending scene
Only when one of us were injured did others substitute. Even then, a sub-par gemini

No one could match us. No one could bring home the thunderous cheers and applauses
Maybe that is why we had no home. So everywhere, anywhere could receive our caravan
But we did not understand that. We do know but, back then, we did not know the causes
She and I, we were the problems. Raged too hard, so the only thing left was a businessman

We were found and offered a mountain of money and stability for our talents and friends
The man wanted an aquarium of exotic fish, playing and singing what the people demanded
Clownfishes, lionfishes, you name it. Like a circus behind what a most fancy watertank's lends
But we did not buy into it. We knew better than to sell out to dreams and tears branded

We remained free and for everyone. The river was our path to follow, wherever it led
Still, your grandmother took the hook. She was offered peace and quiet. A home to belong
"All rivers end in an endless ocean. Lost forever, never to be found again amidst its spread"
She said that to me. She wanted a home, acknowledgement and myself to come along

I wanted nothing more than to make her rage against the current. To stand for her beliefs
It did not matter what others thought of us. It did not matter of were unknown or gemini stars
Yet, as I saw her mouth get pierced by that hook, I raged so hard that I broke my back's briefs
My spinal broke as I hit the hook out of her. The fisherman left, but I was left in burning scars

She screamed at me. She hit me harder than the hook's steel. She made me cry tears of joy
I never saw her angrier than that moment. I never witnessed such raw emotion and thunder
My wildfire started to spread my body. Causing me to painfully move and, my back, destroy
I danced my love for her. Until I crumbled and the river swept me, I tore her heart asunder

It took me my body, my dreams, and tears to see her bounce back into the river with me
But she swam for me. She danced her way into my hearts once again, and we combined
My unquenching fire, her ungrounding lightning; both made one to light our hearts' fusee
At the end, we combined our bodies to make a plasmatic one that would never be streamlined

I may be in a wheelchair still, for a physical injury is now beyond this body's capabilities
But she rages on inside my heart. My plasma may have hardened a bit, but oh it still blazes
I still go against the current, for I have no home. But she has it in me despite my incapacities
She rages to the sounds of my heart's beats. He whose passion, her spirit, still raises