The walls gave in that night.
The last paper clips holding them together
fell to pieces
in the ocean where the water
didn’t stay wet after hitting the ground.
Salt turned into sand and metal into dust,
crackling in the heat of the seabed.
There was a roar coming from the waves
up ahead,
but they didn’t land…
wouldn’t land
as they rolled through the empty sea
towards the dam.
Still it poured.
Every drop burnt the flesh at the touch.
She held my hand as we stood
in the acid rain,
tasting the sting in her tongue
as the poison cut through my throat.
She didn’t have to bear it.
I wanted her to seek shelter from my storm.
It came for me.
But she stayed.
There was a beacon by the shore.
Its light was faint.
The light wasn’t light but a reflection
of the worlds I’d conceived in my eyes.
It was there only as long as I was,
and I was fading in the dark.
Those worlds couldn’t live
without the dreams that made them.
And they took them away.
I wanted to run.
But she held me in the middle of the field
until it was safe to walk again,
knowing my entire universe was a war zone
where the gods killed for sport.
It was hours
before I could breathe through my nose again.
Neither of us said the words
but we knew.
It was in the moment
when nothing mattered anymore
and everything was falling apart
that we heard each other’s voices
sans the sounds.
And it would be in the moments—
loud, quiet, and in between,
that we must listen.
Walls in Paper Clips
26 March 2025
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