previous part here: https://jordynsaelor.com/2026/11/05/and-you-werent-there/
all parts here: https://jordynsaelor.com/cant-catch-me-now/
***
I traveled through the veil of the water thrice:
once, blindly, to a stormy sea;
twice, to my mother and a town that just made me cry
(so I left again
without introducing myself
to any of the strangers who looked like me–
that way I wouldn’t have to explain who I was
and how I’d lived here over a decade and a half ago,
possibly more, possibly less,
depending on how time flowed across realms–
since really, they wouldn’t understand
what I was talking about
if I did speak to them).
Or,
technically I’m counting wrong,
I traveled once, to a stormy sea,
twice, back to the sieve river (does that really count though
if it’s just a return trip?)
then thrice, to my place of birth,
and fourth, I almost returned to the sieve river;
I knew the easy feel of it through the raindrops and currents,
that almost-familiar pull on my clothes
alongside the muddy shores
with children’s feet splashing–
but I didn’t
go.
I had no more
adventurers waiting for me there.
So instead
I just listened
for some place new to explore.
I just listened
for the sound of a dream
without words
that had to exist.
Something
like a feeling closing in to freedom,
like a scent of baked food filling a hollow stomach,
I just listened
for a craving of laughter
bottled and alone,
I just knew
something had to exist between
fighting to stay alive
and monotonous boredom,
I just reached out
and felt for light
or warmth
or companionship,
and the waters moved for me
showing me a world
shaped like a knife
for cutting or cooking,
hot as a fire
for burning or cleaning,
crowded as a city
for growing or languishing,
and I said
no
I don’t want choices as simple as that
give me
stardust
approximations of holiness
honesty so blunt it stuns
someone I can talk to about it all
maps of everywhere unknown
an end to powerlessness
a friend who isn’t a liar too
winds to ride on
give me
satisfaction
with what I have
and new lands to uncover
and…
something I don’t have words for but it’s here
in me
growing wider
a dream whose realness would destroy it
a movement toward somewhere warmer
an instinct
holding onto a moment forever
a knowledge climbing until it makes strangers weep
you and I
a breaking down of divides,
give me
all that
somehow
in the ground under my feet
in the ache of my back
in the roots of my scalp
in the words tumbling from my mouth
in a shape
I can squeeze
and yell into
and stomp on
and never get tired,
give me
sunglows
and auroras in my elbows
and sparkles in my nose
give me
a name for
that feeling
so I can cling to it.
And the water
parted
offering a world
of music
and rhythms
above settled, danced-out dust.
So I
seized it.
***
header photo by Rostislav Uzunov on Pexels.com
check out the Death Magic Duology
