Disclosure.

Misguided, I tumbled into your grasp. I tapped the water’s edge and tested it’s depth; murky and full of mystery, but lacking substance. I entered still, not intent on crossing banks but merely on becoming familiar, to test such intrigue. At times the surface seemed to radiate with warmth, though perhaps the sunlight’s impression upon it had more influence than initially thought, for as things wore on they became cold and uninteresting. We thrashed and we sank, we floated and we departed. Uncomfortable, all of it, though not a wasted experience; more intriguing was the fallout than the event itself. It was the presence of very subtle arrogance, of thinly veiled perceived dominance, that kicked up dust and appeal. We’re all made of glass, solid to the touch but imperfectly fragile, and thus such displays read as a temporary high. And then those waters dried up and disappeared, not for sadness or regret, but simple mutual lack of interest. It was never really there, that desire to swim and frolic, but the circumstances warranted we test our will. It turned to vapor, left our sight, and had little effect on all else. Yet such things remain fresh, not for memories of agony or heartache, but simple intrigue in terms of the behaviour the situation warranted; a living study of misguided arrogance and rapidly-approaching disinterest. And now such things move on unchanged, not for better nor for worse, for it was revealed to be insignificant. We’ll collect our bones at the shore’s end, hollow and unimpressive, and stow them away as dust and powder, left to be swept up by the wind, no longer pretending to be stable. This is how it all unfolded, and, really, it had little effect on any of us.