Fountain - Traci Brimhall, Brynn Saito
Water drowns your panic like a Sunday blessing. It’s spring. The sky above you darkens with rain. You think passion is your only gift, but a sadness older than the sea keeps time in your blood. Once you saw two skeletons locked in a kiss. Time has forgotten them. Time forgets everything except the swan’s neck reflected in the dark fountain and the way it cried out its silver anthem of loneliness. Do not drink from here. The water looks cold and clean but clarity like that only leads to madness. Remember when you came here with the one who held your body even as it changed beneath his hands and waited for you to renounce the world? You will never renounce it.
