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The Bunker Review

The Student News Site of North East School of the Arts

The Bunker Review

The Bunker Review

Neptunian Engagement

Julianna Bustamante, The Jellyfish. Watercolor, 2023.

 

By Donathen Donohue

 

        You are my muse. In all your exquisite existence.

        I stare into these deep nefarious navy depths. And my demise is surely staring back with thinly veiled excitement. You in turn see all my secrets swirling in the pools of my own two eyes. Truths that I have yet to even discover, spring out before I realize what is happening. Further feeding your ravenous whirlpool of knowledge. I would never think that there is a lifetime you do not know, and yet you treat mine with rapt attention.

        Soaking my life’s story for every drop to add to your collection. I want to learn more, see more, feel more, so I indulge you. I sink my feet into your hypothermic, oxygen turning, surface. You are instantaneous in increasing your force of waves. Just for me…I truly am lucky to be treated with the highest honor only the moon has possessed. To have each next wave get higher and higher, all to drag me down. Truly a sight to see. The opaque mountains of fish and brine wash over me as a cleanser. You make a show of power, to remind me that I am at your ever changing whim.

        I am ready to sink, and I am grateful that you have let me take my time. For I can recall counts of many ravished by your rage. The next wave crashes on itself, and with it, me. I am dragged down in a tumble, much like a fight where I have lost before it started. My limbs being beat and brushed along. My body is twisting amongst itself. My lungs are bursting with the song of your limbs drumming against a wall that tries to contain you. Each hit grows louder and louder, in a beat of steady increase. Squeezing and spasming amongst themselves to desperately allow the beat to live. You feel it and know that in your dark chasm I will forever reside.

        So you send me your angels as comfort. They glow amongst the voided background. More and more swirl around me, twirling me in a dance. I kept my eyes so struck on your gifts I did not notice my spouses until they had wrapped their arms around my own wrist and waist. Their thin long tendrils of laced string have a burning sting as they move my body with the flow. A dance I have never known before, yet felt so familiar it ached more then my spouse’s limbs on my body. I am married to you by love in only name, but it is enough for my heart. So I let you give me my last kiss, of all I can offer. And I gasp when my spouse’s soft jello top brushes against my hand.

        My spouse’s of bright colors, rounded like the moon, shine brighter than they may have ever before in my eyes. My eyes that stay open in order to not miss a second of the chance to be with you. Even when my throat constricts and tries to purge you, I know you do not take offense of my weak nature. I let you take back and reclaim my body as yours. I am one of your everlasting creations, and yet, I feel that I am special. For that I thank you with all my last energy.

        As I feel tingly warm, and fuzzy headed, I wonder how my existence will be now. Though I don’t have much concern. My body is placed in my spouse’s arms, your angels supervise, and as our kiss is finished… I feel comfort in the knowledge that I no longer have anything to fear, and can be one with my only love. Until the existence of all fades, I open myself to your salt saturated ways, because I know I will be there in you to start life again.

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