In the clouds I could see the faces. In all their variations.
I arrived during a bright and moist season in this mountain region. The rounded masses in the sky slowly moved across the sun, diffusing and enlarging the faces. They looked like they were screaming. Is this how they looked in their final moments? I wondered.
A voluminous breeze circled around me, picked up some of the loose earth about my feet and with the same ease put the earth back down. Through the pores of my body I absorbed the salt in the air with much pleasure. This used to be an ocean.
The screamers in the sky, maybe they knew this ocean. The faces danced and melted, cavities dilating while suspended in air. Sending one last moan out before blurring into a thin white haze.
They were the faces of all the children scattered across the cosmic dust. This was the tapestry of the eradicated, trapped in Earth’s firmament, gazing into the world. Toward the within.
Open Space Go to Source
Author: Fanciulla Gentile
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