THE OTHER Still here. Hours or is it days just gone. Disappeared. Noone appeared.

The sun and the moon. Alternatively. The Other always the Other. On the wall. Behind and beneath the words. In my head. Outside beyond the window. The other side of memory sending muffled sounds, warnings, advice unwanted. Unheeded. Scripted in a frame. Claiming omniscience .Snake-like they curl and weave around the Eden of my plans. Guilt hisses and spits, poisoning expectation; hanging, invisible, from the branches of the day. Days, weeks, still silently present. I cannot touch the Other. If I could, I would strangle the Other. Even if, the Other always reappears. Wordless. In the back of the mind. A memory of words heard yet not heard. Admonishments; at times comforting encouraging. Exhortations even. Seas crash and roar. Tusks of waves. Dry sand curved like the moon. Walk through the waves. Am I cleansed? Baked in the cup of the dunes, am I renewed? Still and only here. The Other. The Other always the Other.