Surface Tension

As I do.
As you do.

He knows,
The one there,
With his hands holding in his face,
With Awareness, a bullish twinkle, in his eye,
Formed from the intense force of
Thought.

Thought so simple.

The violence of his mind again takes...

Substance and Definition.
Context and Volition.
Memory and Fear.

Every drop of his water was born of this future vision,
One, and then another,
His mind's desires flicker,
Congeal and seek each other,
Combat each other,
Together, swelling the volume.

The mass inside him shifts and stretches,
Mental liquid thickening,
Strengthening to rigidity,
Rages and thrusts against his skull,
Boiling beneath the fragile bonds of
The man's surface tension.

He turns to someone else,
A face new to the gathering.
A different ear.

Again, the waves roll,
Crests rising with energy potential,
Yet for the moment still falling short of materialization.

The onlookers twitch and swat at themselves,
As they begin to perceive the intensifying moisture in the air.
They had come only wondering what could be wrong,
What could be wrong within this man
Standing so strange in the street.

His gaze shifts again,
Neck twitching away as if from a migraine dragon.
His eyes flash as when one feels
an acute, surprising, internal pain.

He forces his wet vision back downward.
For another minute, he swallows.
The muscles in his face constrict ripple tight.

Suddenly, he blinks in conclusion,
A decision,
Some wet bandage of consensus,
And turns to face the one.
The one he had earlier seen
Approach from the corners of his eye,
The one of the past, the one well known,
The one he remembers when dying alone.

His eyes slowly arc upwards to meet hers.

He Drinks the world's breath down his throat,
And holds it.

Feeling the moment of contact,
The raging water stills itself to silence,
And all at once performs a slow shimmer,
Like the start of a thousand tsunami, far out to sea.
The water's very molecules shake and stir in self resonance,
Amping to a vibrant shrill.



The man's expression shoves more white into his face.
The piercing hush deafening all who hear.

No one had a moment to shudder.

Only the
(ghost of two white globes),

could witnesses recall for the news cameras,
for the round spectral eye of the millions,

And the
(cavernous black hollow that channeled the sound,
that horrid scream).



The Water,
The Vastness of
The Envisioned,
Was never imagined before The Breach,
Never before, this spilling of us in the desert.