With water, smoke and fire

A dozen candles ‘round the water, dozen flames turning humble ceramic into a dance floor of gracious movements. Robust energy, transformed by the steam of hot water, into a sensual swirl of beauty. It moves on the wall, playing like a film on a screen, shadows hide from their fire their light that darkens the world. When the wax wanes, the light fades, and shadows brave the open. A struggle of light and dark time favours the latter, and it consumes the space… A glass of wine on the side does stand, the candles make a ruby in the water… the red liquid shimmers, vulnerable to the fire, and with it a fire is kindled… The water in the bath is clear. light forms crystals in the bowl: the wines very container the glass, glass that becomes liquid with the bare touch of fair skin, and water and wine merge to make the drink impossible. I stand inside the diamonds, they scratch my skin, it is the heat that scorches me. It burns, and makes me forget the pain that upon my heart was inflicted. I pick up the glass and raise it to my lips, lips as red as the rose, as red as the wine. I feel the substance run down my throat, it quenches my thirst, yet if it were blood, as the colour suggests, it would quench a thirst for revenge… Now I sit, in the water, small waves and ripples lick at my skin, like the keen beast waiting to be unleashed. Its mouth waters, it hungers for me, yet I must not let it in! It is the very body of my fears, and its cows the better part of me! The smoke from my cigarette, mingles with the steam. Opaque becomes corporal, it works together with the fire, to make my keen eyes scowl, as I struggle to see my hand… Smoke that twirls from the death of me, ascends towards the roof, where it will bob and bounce, ‘till it all comes crashing down once more… This smoke is like my thoughts: stretching across the skies, only to be confined by the atmosphere again, as I am confined within myself. I cannot see. I am naked in the dark, there is nothing that separates me from my doubts and fears, and anon I shall be consumed by this creature… Yet, for now, I shall indulge: rows of blocks are an eternal pleasure, all compressed into mere moments. It affects the mind like a drug... An open window, the wind that it ferries plays with the curtains, they retreat and return again, like a tide, like the water in the bath, like the mood of any man, suddenly, aggressive. the window is slammed shut by an angered gust of wind. The glass is broken, shards tossed into the water, tossed onto my bare skin. like the diamonds, like the heat; it slashes my skin again… Truly now the water is red, red with the liquid from my icy veins, crystals by itself, red with the light of the candles, and red with wine from th’other crystal vessel. I have dropped the wine into water, the broken glass fuses with the window, the water. and so my world has shrunk to that bowl of water: beneath me, above me; now milling about me…