I went to the lady who knows about herbs.
I told her about my hands that had little pearls on them and the sleepless nights and if not sleepless then full of movie pictures with that boy and girl in them and how happy they were with their moonlight promises and holding closely like egyptian children that would sleep forever now. and that song I can't get out of my head even if I play the guitar so much that yesterday I got a bruise on my thumb, crimson red, like a ring, like a promise, all so I can hear my voice louder than the thoughts inside my head.
it is about love, she says and I look at her thinking what does she know, but she probably does and I smile at her with clouded eyes and she hands me a potion of different herbs that won't do magic, but will help.
I wanted nothing less than magic, and maybe that's the seed of the problem when someone starts to step away from you while you're still in the room and you have to check on mirrors to see if you're still there - you are, elfin body and mermaid hair and green eyes like the forests you think about too much- because someone stopped seeing you when he started to see ufos in the sky and from that point on dreamed of getting away on one and talks about love strangely, like a very abstract, faraway thing and all you think is but I am here.
and you can't help but thinking he didn't understand a thing in his ivory tower from where it is easy to look down on everyone, which he calls helping.
I try the herbal potion and it tastes like moss and earth and makes me think that spirits even little ones are strong and wild.
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spirit quote by francesca lia block.
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