Denouement

What are they? Where did they come from? I do not like crimson. It clashes with the terrible orange of the bleak, malignant sands that stretch as far one might care to look. They're not supposed to be here. They don't fit? Where did they come from?

So many questions. Focus deserted me weeks ago. I'm not getting any answers. Why won't they respond? Why?! I can't resist but to spew questions and inquiry. I sleep, I breathe, I cringe at my disparate inadequacy but the questions keep, keep coming. Bouncing off the ignorant, stupid monoliths like the elements.

I hate red. My blood is red. And smooth. Or brown. Dried, scattered on the dust, sucked through the teeth of the wind and stolen by the sun's condescending kiss. They mock me. I don't understand.

This is not why I'm here. Someone find me.

Please.

Tell me why. WHY. Unfathomably, inexplicably, immeasurably colossal. Gigantic. Obviously unperturbed by the elements. Rage is beneath me. Darkness never comes. But defeat...

I will never be satisfied with not knowing.

But is She Gold?

I can hardly tell what I see anymore. Maybe it's what I want to see. Reality is skewed. Certainty is so hard to come by. I used to meet it on the sidewalk, while walking down the street. I'd tip my hat, smile comfortably, and amble on. Seems the last year has changed that. I don't meet reason and clarity anymore. Too focused on the future. Or maybe not enough. Reason shouldn't be intangible and grey. I just don't know how to begin looking for something I can't remember how I lost.

But what of this form? Somehow, beauty persists through irrationality. I imagine a form. Effeminate, slender, radiant. Daydreaming. She goes nowhere, pleasantly brushes time away, and paints a moment of lax, rejuvenating, serenity.

I want to be caught in this bubble. Alone, distant, separate from questions, answers, and silly temporal restrictions. But I can't. Almost. Not quite. I just watch. The form sways, I reciprocate.

I guess it's gold. Golden. In changing, unsure hues. I impose my vanity and desires upon her. Part dream, part vision, the most I can do is watch and wonder. I'll have to get back to reality eventually. Wether I care or not, time continues it's aggravating pull on me. I'm glad I can just watch every once in a while. Gold is magnificent. I hope I never meet her.