But I Shall Tell

Chapter 4 - A Crazy Dream.

 Dec 13, 2019.

Can you really lock your thoughts and fears inside and hide them? If yes, will they be peeking out?

"I had the craziest dream last night about this girl, who was wearing a red dress and high heels. She was sitting on a branch of a tree with her legs hanging down. Her red lips were like a baby duck swimming for the first time. Fog was all around the place, it was just her, the branch, and a lake below her. She wasn't paying much attention to the lake and swinging her legs. One of her heels slipped from her smooth foot and fell in the water. She looked down for a moment and with one hand holding the branch left herself free. No, she did not fall in the water. Her Naked toe touched the cold water, and the heel was back where it was supposed to be. The fog covered the scene while she lifted herself up. She was now sitting on the same branch with her legs hanging down. She turned around and saw me staring at her. She was wearing her high heels and a white dress. The fog cleared, the fog cleared. I turned around and saw you standing beside me with your hand on my shoulder. Your red dress is all I looked at, and you kissed me. I closed my eyes and when I opened them, you were gone. I turned around again, the girl was still sitting on the same branch with her legs hanging and her high heels, and her red dress."

"Some memories are forever, Maan." Josea said, trying to shake her feet. The tight grip of the rope was getting into her. She was wearing a red dress and high heels. Her lips were red and so seemed her one cheek.

He found the TV remote lying on the table, but walked towards the radio. The radio was sitting on the other side of the table, on a shelf in the wall. He turned it on. A station where they read poems(morbid poems), a man who reads it. The man had just started reading a poem.

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The Woods Are Dry

If snow be white, then let it be
O Rain mine,
For you are a bird
In the woods
Below the sad moon,
Overtaken, by the quiet children
In equal mornings,
Say, shall we meet like the lilies in my garden, a day
Then shall we kiss?
Like the imposed poems
Like the little hearing of the burdened roses,
And before I vanish
Shall you say, yes
Then so you know,
The woods are dry
The children, dead.

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He was standing near the radio, with his back to the wall. The voice of the man on the radio was a scary one, the kind you use to scare the children with ghost stories. He finished with one poem and began with a new one.

---

Morning Hills

I planted rules among the reeds.
Dear,
I shall not be telling this
To bury a bone, I killed many a dreams.

I once took a rose to an empty glass.
I then,
By night, by day, waited.

I then broke half a portion of my promise
And stood, and walked, past the morning hills.

---

Josea was staring at him. She could feel that he liked sad poems of lost ones. His rectangular glasses seemed to have something dark in them.

---

My little kisses

Feather my skin
Ferry o ferry
But dark, through my flashing light
Before the Rain comes with warm shadows.

Departure me
And my beliefs
To the prisoners land of echoes
Should I learn to swim and to bow knots.

Weary my sleep
And welcome my night
But today, just let me hold her when I'm still alive
For your sinking stories are in my arms.

My little kisses
My thousand times
Are melting away, oh! ferry o ferry.
Are melting away, oh! ferry o ferry.

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