Enigma

Enigma

It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.
– Lemony Snickett

She was an enigma,
A conundrum that left owls with their heads spinning.
Caught in knotted feathers and plastic soda rings.
No one could figure her out, and yet,
She was unnervingly simplistic in everything she did.
She would fold paper lanterns just to set them on fire –
Watch them burn against the horizon’s dying light.
And with a curated whisper she would let
Those skyfires satiate her wanderlust,
For her feet could never stand still –
Upon coals and plumes of smoke she would dance,
Stomping out volcanic eruptions with dirt and stone.
But not even the blackness could coat her anguish.
And when she missed him most, she would
Pretend she was a spirit, if only so they could
Meet in the same realm.
Her hands grasped at shadows in her efforts to
Understand the mystery of where he was –
No, he was far too sweet to be buried in
Worms and pebbles, treading beneath her feet.
She tired of inhaling sulfur and rock salt, and longed
For a body to love – his body.
She raged against carmine flames and those
Crackled lanterns, helium inflated clouds, and
The constant prickle of Lingering –
The relentless tingle of Wondering –

How? Why?

Death was an enigma.

 – Samantha Prasad

Comments

  1. Addison Taylor says:

    That Lemony Snickett quote is one of my absolute favorites. Beautiful words. ❤

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